


Unbreakable (A Dick Grayson story)

by Sky_Warrior01



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Robin (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Attempted Suicide, Brainwashing, Bruce does not know how to parent, Daddybats is trying, Dick does not trust people, Dick lies about everything, Dick needs a hug, Everyone lies about everything, I need help, I started this story four years ago on Wattpad and quarantine is making me re-write it, Manipulation, Panic Attacks, Slade lies about everything, Slade pretends to be nice, Suicidal Thoughts, Wally is a good friend, emotions are hard, everything is a lie, slade is a jerk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:34:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 45,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24596116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sky_Warrior01/pseuds/Sky_Warrior01
Summary: This is also on Wattpad. Just in case anyone was wondering. Anyway...The Light was looking for a child, a child who they could train to become their ultimate weapon, one with enough potential that it could, with training, bring the entire Justice League to their knees. Finally, they found the perfect candidate to fulfill their ambitions. They would break Richard Grayson and in turn, he would break the Justice League.
Comments: 17
Kudos: 56





	1. Prologue

“Are we in agreement? This is the one?” Ra’s al Ghul asked his compatriots, eyes never leaving the screen in front of him which showed a picture of a young boy with messy raven black hair. Yes, he would do quite nicely. Innocence practically radiated off the image, the boy’s bright blue eyes naive and all too trusting. All it would take was a nudge in the right direction. Well, more like a shove, but the words were synonymous in the villain’s vocabulary. 

Queen Bee hummed, nodding her approval. “He will suit quite nicely.” She loved the irony of this plan; having the Justice League defeated by one of the so-called innocents that they fought so hard to protect. What a brilliant why to show the world that even their protectors should be feared. “But are you sure that we want to wait on it? I still think it would be better to just take the child.”

Luthor rolled his eyes as he sighed in clear irritation. “We’ve been over this. We cannot directly take the child without jeopardizing his trust. Children are delicate. We must build the foundations or else the plan will crumble.”

“Well then, it is decided. Phase one is now in effect.” Vandal Savage spoke with authority, ending the dispute before it escalated further. They had been discussing this plan for months at this point, and he was done with the talking. 

One by one, the other Light members left the call and Vandal Savage leaned back in his chair, an eerie smile spreading across his lips as he continued to gaze at the face of the smiling child. While the boy might not know it yet, he was now property of the Light, and soon the Flying Graysons would have their wings clipped for good. 

~•~

Dick did not understand how things had gone so incredibly wrong. 

Did it start that morning when he had landed wrong in practice and been told not to perform? Was it after dinner when he had gone to check the lines for his parents? Or maybe it was when he saw the dark caped figure standing in the shadows?

He had told his parents, of course he had, but they worked for a circus. There were plenty of strangely dressed people wandering about. Far too many to be concerned about one man with a bat mask and a cape. 

The images replayed over and over and over again, people’s screams echoing inside his head along with the awful sound of his parents’ bodies hitting the ground, bones crunching and blood splattering across the ground. 

Traumatized and alone, the young boy curled into a tight ball, huddling under a blanket in a corner of the busy police department, his lips whispering the same words on repeat until it became a mantra: “It’s just a dream… just a dream… just a dream.”


	2. Reality doesn't seem so real anymore

It was not just a dream.

If anything, it was a nightmare; one that Dick could not seem to wake up from.

He felt numb, as if everything happening around him was occurring in a fog, the words of the police officers muffled and distorted to his ears which were still ringing with the sound of his parents’ death. Yet to utter a single word, Dick did not protest when he was ushered into a police car; not even when he was dropped off at a strange house and told that it was to be his new home.

Dick did not want a new home. He did not need one, right? His parents were fine. It was just all a dream.

_A terrible, terrible dream._

He barely registered the new adults speaking to him, simply stumbling after them to a small room with a mattress on the floor. It was his new room, they said. But he did not need a new room. His parents were fine, right?

_Just a dream… a horrible, horrible dream._

As the door closed behind him and the lights turned out, Dick curled up on the mattress, tugging the threadbare blanket over his shoulders and hoping that everything would be well in the morning.

Things were surprisingly the same come morning, Dick awaking in the same small room, eyes blinking blearily around at his surroundings. He had not really taken in anything the night before, far too much in shock to care, but now his mind had cleared somewhat.

He still thought it was a dream – because of course his parents could not really be dead – but he was now more curious as to the details of this strange dream. After all, he could not recall ever actually being in a room like this before.

The room he was in seemed fairly devoid of personality, white walls clear of any decoration, the only piece of furniture in the room being the small mattress which he was sitting on. It was rather odd, Dick thought, to just leave a room so empty. He was used to over decoration having been raised in the circus, most rooms and people adorned with gaudy colors and frilly decorations.

Slowly, he arose from the mattress and padded over to the door, bare feet cold against the floorboards. He gripped the doorknob with both hands, slowly turning it and pushing the door open.

The hallway past the door did not seem familiar either.

_This was a very strange dream._

Dick stepped out into the hallway, never one to let unfamiliarity stop him from exploring. The hallway too seemed unusually bare and undecorated, although the walls here were now a dark, rather somber, green.

As he continued along the hallway he came across more doors, all identical to the one which had led to his room. However, he ignored them, opting instead to continue on, eventually stepping out into what appeared to be a living room area. Or at least, the few couches and chairs scattered around the room would suggest that.

Adjoining the living room was a kitchen, and Dick could hear the sound of humming coming from someone just out of sight. His stomach growled as the smell of food hit his nostrils, leading him toward the kitchen and the person.

Maybe it was his mama. But why would she be in this unfamiliar house? Then again, why would Dick be here?

_The dream was only growing stranger and stranger._

“Hello? Mama?” Dick asked, stepping into the kitchen, confusion swelling in the pit of his stomach as he saw a strange woman there.

_Where was his mama?_

The woman jolted slightly when she heard his voice, whirling around to face him. While she did not look completely unkind, she was definitely a stranger.

_Why was she in his dream?_

The woman began to speak, and Dick had to focus on what she was saying, scared of where his thoughts might take him.

“… dead. You were brought here last night and will be staying here until someone either wants to adopt you or you age out of the system.” The woman eyed Dick with clear disgust in her eyes, as if she could tell just by looking at the boy that no one could possibly want to adopt him. “You will address me as Ms. Nyssa or Ma’am. I run this house and expect you to behave. If you have any questions, ask one of the other pests running around… they’ll probably help.” The woman, Nyssa, said, tone harsh and uncaring.

Dick could not help but frown, brows furrowing in further confusion. Why would he dream up such a mean lady? She was nothing like the nice people he was used to.

However, he remained silent, simply nodding and moving to the table when the lady told him to sit down. After all, there was no point in talking to characters in his own dream.

_This was all just in his head.  
_   
_Everything was fine._

He stayed quiet as other children began to enter the room and sit down at the table, doing his best to ignore their pointed stares and whispers.

_Just a dream._

Food was served, a lumpy looking porridge, but Dick did not eat. The strangeness of everything was making him feel queasy, despite the fact that he still retained his continuous inner chant.

_All just a dream._

Dick returned to his room, curling up on the mattress and squeezing his eyes shut, trying to force himself to wake up, to snap out of this strange reality.

Nothing seemed to work.

He stayed in his room until the lady came and forced him to sit at the table for dinner.

Dick did not eat.

He returned to his room as soon as he could and tried to wake up once more.

That night he could not sleep.

_Just a dream._

The days went by in a numb blur as reality slowly sank in for the young boy; his parents were dead, and his life would never be the same. Gone forever where the loving embraces. Lost where the gentle words. Absent were the tender reassurances that everything would be okay.

Because it truly was not okay.

It would never be okay.

And with that final realization Richard Grayson cried.


	3. Friendship is so not whelming

Dick lay curled up on his mattress, the position one that he had grown accustomed to over the few long weeks that he had been in the house. Things had settled into a routine, with Dick only ever leaving his room to get food or use the bathroom before returning and inevitably crying himself to sleep again.

That being said, it came as a surprise when his door was suddenly pushed open and a taller boy stepped into the room.

Dick jolted upright, eyes going wide as he pressed his back against the wall, watching the other male warily. While he did not exactly expect to be attacked, he really could not think of any other reason as to why his room was being invaded.

The other boy simply rolled his eyes, taking a step closer as he held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Tommy. Do you seriously plan to spend every day in here, newbie?”

“I… I don’t know. Maybe.” Dick mumbled, hesitantly reaching forward to take his hand, shaking it timidly. His voice was hoarse from disuse and wobbly with unshed tears, however, he could not just leave the other male’s hand there. That would be rude. _Mama would be unhappy._ Dick thought, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he fought back the overwhelming urge to cry again. “I’m Dick.”

Before he could pull his hand back, Tommy tightened his grip and turned to tug him out of the room. “Great to meet ya, Dick. Now let’s go. We don’t get many new people, so I’m not about to just let you sit here and be boring.”

Dick stumbled ever so slightly but managed to keep his footing as he reluctantly let himself be dragged from his room. “Where are you taking me? I don’t want to do anything.” He protested, far from ready to be pulled out of his grief.

Yet, even as much as he wanted to return to his room and mourn some more, Dick could not help but feel his inner curiosity spiking, wondering why the other boy was approaching him now, especially since Tommy was clearly much older than him, something that automatically made the interaction suspicious.

He was conflicted, and it was that confliction which led to him letting himself get dragged along, Tommy’s rambling chatter serving to somewhat soothe his strained emotions. After all, Dick himself was normally quite the talker.

It was nice to just listen and observe for once.

Tommy led him to a small room with floor to ceiling windows, shelving in between holding stacks upon stacks of board games.

“As you can probably tell, this is the game room. We’re allowed to use any of them as long as we put them away afterward and don’t break anything. I like the strategy games… like Risk. Have you played many board games?” Tommy let go of Dick’s hand, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips when the smaller boy began to wander around the room, fingertips lightly brushing over the various boxes.

Dick loved board games.

Since the circus traveled a lot and was thus disconnected from the internet a majority of the time, his family and other acts had often spent the evenings gathered around tables, laughter and music filling the air as they had monopoly tournaments or played cards.

He came to a stop next to a monopoly box, fingertips brushing the surface before he jerked them away as if he’d been burned.

_No._

He needed to think of something else. Anything else.

Forcing a smile onto his lips, Dick turned to look at Tommy. “I’ve never played Risk before. How does it work?” He was clearly seeking a distraction, the pain in his eyes all too evident.

Fortunately for him, Tommy either did not notice or simply did not care, striding over to the shelves and pulling down a box. “I’ll teach ya, don’t worry. What color do you wanna be?”

Dick payed attention when Tommy explained the rules, although he quickly discovered that maybe he did not understand the game as well as he thought, Tommy easily out maneuvering him and winning the first round.

However, Dick did not mind. In fact, he welcomed the distraction and so they played again… and again… and again.

By the end of the last game, Dick was managing an actual smile, and when they separated for the night with Tommy promising to come get him in the morning so that they could play some more, Dick found that he was genuinely looking forward to the next day.

As he lay in bed that night, Dick thought to himself that maybe, just maybe, things could be somewhat okay again.

~•~

The following weeks brought with them the return of pieces of the happy, bubbly, child that Dick had once been, and although things where definitely not the same as they had been before his parents’ death, Dick found himself feeling just a bit better with each passing day.

“Ha! I won!” He cried in excitement, pointing at his triumphant little blue soldiers that were now the only ones to be seen on the board. “Look, Tommy! Can you believe it?”

Rather than being upset that he had been beaten, Tommy just rolled his eyes. “Of course I can believe it. I’m the one you’re playing against, idiot.”

Dick stuck out his tongue, gathering up his soldiers and counting them out for another round. It was his first win, and he was quite pleased to have finally beaten the older boy, especially since Tommy always seemed to destroy the majority of his troops within the first few rounds.

He blamed it on bad luck.

“Can we go again?”

“Sure, but you’re not winning…”

~•~

“Tommy? Do you think anyone will ever want to adopt us?” Dick asked one night while putting away their newest game obsession; Clue.

Tommy shrugged, leaning back against the couch as he watched the younger boy do all the work. “You missed a card. And no, probably not. Or at least not me. I’m already too old for that. ‘sides, I’m not about to let someone come and take me without bringing along my twin.”

“Twin?”

“Yeah… she’s in a girl’s home not too far from here. Who knows, maybe we’ll just leave one of these days. I’ll grab her and we can go on the run again. It’s what we did before the cops found us and put me here.”

Dick frowned at that, putting the box down on the floor as he turned to look at Tommy. “You’d just leave? You can do that? Can I come?”

“Maybe.” Tommy grinned and him, leaning over to ruffle the younger boy’s hair. “If you’re not too much trouble.”

“I won’t be, I swear. Just promise. Promise that if you go, you’ll take me too.” Dick pleaded, reaching up to grab a hold of Tommy’s hand as he met his gaze.

Tommy chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “Fine, fine. I promise. My sister’s boring anyway… it’d be nice to have someone more interesting along for the fun.”  
  
Dick grinned, letting go of Tommy’s hand to hold out his own, pinky extended. “Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.” The older boy laughed, linking their fingers together.

~•~

It was a week later when Dick awoke to the sound of police sirens and, upon investigating, discovered that Tommy was gone and so was his twin sister.

He withdrew back into his room and, for the first time in months, Dick cried.


	4. Dick hides orphan boys' toilet paper

After Tommy’s disappearance, Dick returned to living in isolation, keeping to his room as much as possible, even skipping meals if the opportunity to do so availed itself.

It hurt.

It hurt a lot.

He had thought that he could trust Tommy, had let the other male bring down the walls that he had been building around himself after his parents’ horrific death. It had just felt so incredibly nice to have someone, to have a friend that he could talk to and spend time with and who did not get angry when he got overwhelmed and cried.

But perhaps what hurt most of all was the fact that Tommy had _promised_ to take Dick with him.

He had pinky promised.

And to Dick, a nine-year-old child, this was the ultimate betrayal.

As he lay curled up on his mattress, eyes watery but tears unable to fall, Dick made a vow to himself. There would be no more trusting easily. There would be no more friends. It would just be himself against the world.

Trusting people just led to pain.

\----One Year Later----

“Grayson! Did you hide all of the toilet paper again?”

Dick smirked, not moving from where he was curled up on the couch. “I admit to nothing!” He shouted back, fighting down a mischievous cackle. It was just too easy to pull things over on the boys here.

Not like they could risk doing anything back.

The last time someone had tried to return his pranking it had not ended well.

His smirk grew, remembering just how funny it had been when his challenger had woken up strapped to the ceiling with duck tape. The idiot should have known better than to attempt the water-bucket-over-the-door trick.

Although it had been funny to watch everyone panicking while taking him down, and it was even more funny when they had messed up and the kid and fallen down headfirst.

Dick shifted into a more comfortable position on the couch as one of the older house boys came storming into the living room face red from anger.

“You don’t looked whelmed at all, Henry… maybe you should take a few deep breaths,” he cautioned, mirth twinkling in his gaze.

“Don’t you dare use your stupid made up words. You know what you did. I’ve had enough of you thinking you can get away with everything, brat. Just wait until I beat your face in.” Henry was fuming, taking rapid steps toward the smaller boy, fist raised in anger.

Dick simply laughed, rolling his eyes as he stood. “Really, Henry? All this because you were too dumb to check before going? It’s a simple life lesson, really. You should thank me.”

“I’m not going to thank you, you slimy little rat!”

Henry lunged at him, fist already swinging.

Dick sighed, shaking his head. “Newbies…” He chided, easily sidestepping the blow and watching in amusement as Henry stumbled and fell onto the couch. “I know you’ve only been here for a month or so, but really… you should know better by now. I do what I want when I want, and people like you? Well, you can’t stop me.”

He stepped back, blue eyes calculating as he watched the older boy turn to face him again, clearly still very angry. “I’d recommend stopping now… before I do some real damage. As it is, I’d already suggest watching your back. I don’t like intrusions into my privacy.”

“You’re crazy.” Henry hissed, standing once more and stepping toward Dick. “You’re what, eight? Nine? You’re a midget. What are you gonna do, huh? Call up some of your circus freak friends?”

Eyes narrowed and fists raised, the older boy did make quite the fearsome figure, or at least he would if he was facing off against anyone else. Unfortunately for him, he was not facing off against anyone else.

Dick grinned, the smile actually looking genuine enough to make Henry take a step back, confusion spreading across his features. And then Dick attacked, moving too quickly for the other boy to process as he delivered a rather solid roundhouse kick to the side of his head.

As Henry fell to the ground, Dick’s smirk returned, and he brushed imaginary dirt from his clothes. “I’m ten, actually…”

~•~

“Richard? I need to speak with you.”

Dick frowned, looking up from the book that he was reading. Nyssa generally never came to speak with any of them. While she certainly was not a good house parent, she also had yet to do anything extremely terrible.

Generally, she was just absent and uncaring, spending most of her time in her room or just simply not being there at all.

While Dick was sure that this had to be some kind of a violation, he did not mind. It was nice to not have an adult around telling them off all the time.

With that in mind, he honestly had no idea as to why the lady wanted to speak with him now. “What do you want?” He asked, not even attempting to hide the suspicion in his tone.

Nyssa rolled her eyes, all too aware of how aggressive and surly the boy had become. _Her father had better seriously reward her for taking this mission._ “We have a visitor and they want to speak to you. Heaven knows why.”

Visitors only meant one thing: another sappy couple looking to rescue some poor orphan kid.

_Yeah, no thanks._

“Don’t wanna. Get them to look at one of the others,” he huffed, picking up his book again and trying to find where he was before the interruption.

Unfortunately, Nyssa did not seem interested in leaving him in peace.

The woman marched over and snatched the book from his hands, dropping it to the floor with a thump as she took the boy’s shoulder and forcibly maneuvered him off the couch.

“I don’t think so. You will speak to the visitor. And you will be polite,” she hissed, pressing him forward by his shoulder, the grip painfully tight.

Dick glared.

“Fine, fine. You can let go. I’ll talk to them,” he grumbled, trying to shrug out of her hold.

His struggles were futile, only leading to the grip on his shoulder tightening as she guided him out of the living room and toward her office, one of the few rooms in the house where the children were not allowed to wander freely.

Nyssa pulled the door open and shoved him in, closing it behind him.

The room was surprisingly dark, the only light shining from a lamp on the large desk in the center of the room.

Dick rubbed at his shoulder, glancing back at the now closed door. _Weird._ Normally Nyssa attended the meetings about possible adoption.

“Richard Grayson.”

He jumped, whirling back around toward the sound of the voice, watching in trepidation as a rather tall man stepped out from the shadows.

_Not creepy at all._

“Who are you? Are you trying to be creepy?” Dick asked, crossing his arms over his chest and doing his best to look unafraid.

The man simply chuckled, taking a seat and gesturing for Dick to do the same. Hesitantly, Dick moved to sit in the chair, eyes narrowing as he watched the man. “Are you going to talk, or are you just going to sit there and be weird?”

“You have attitude, I see… not bad. You’ll need that.” The man spoke, the corners of his lips twitching upward into the faintest of smiles. “My name is Slade Wilson. I am here to help you.”

Dick eyed him with even more suspicion. He was smart enough to know not to just trust random strangers. “Help me? How? I’m doing just fine without your help.”

“Oh really? Tell me, boy… do you know who killed your parents?”

“My… my parents? What do you know about my parents?” Dick leaned forward, heart clenching in his chest. “They said it was an accident… they said… they said the ropes just snapped.”

Slade laughed darkly, shaking his head. “No. They were cut.” He watched as realization flicked through the boy’s eyes. Of course, he had made sure that Dick had seen something the night of his parents’ deaths. All he had to do was reawaken that memory. “You saw the one who did it, didn’t you?”

Dick took in a shaky breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him every time he thought of that night. But the man was right. He _had_ seen someone. “There was a man dressed in black with a cape and a mask. Like… like a bat. My parents told me it was fine, but… but it was him, wasn’t it? He killed my parents?”

“Yes. That’s right. Now tell me boy, what do you know of the one they call Batman?”


	5. Innocent boy is not so innocent

~•Six months later•~

“Ma’am? Can you help me find my parents? I-I… I don’t know where they went…” Blue eyes large and teary, the young boy looked up at the security guard, looking for all the world like a sweet and innocent lost child. “I tried t-to find them, b-but they were g-g-gone.” His lower lip trembled as a single tear slipped down his cheek.

The security guard was already starting to look panicked.

_Tears always work._

“Shh… don’t cry. It’s okay. Why don’t you just come inside and I’ll see what we can do, alright?” The guard placed a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder, gently guiding him past the main door and into a security room. “Why don’t you have a seat, okay sweetheart? I’m going to check with the other guards to see if any parents have notified them.”

As soon as she turned around, the boy struck.

All it took was a sweep of his foot to bring her to the floor and then a hard hit over the head and she was out like a light.

_So easy._

With a bit of maneuvering, Dick moved her body out of sight from the entrance before locking the door. Running his hand across his face to get rid of the tear trail, he smiled.

“Someone’s definitely not going to be feeling the aster when they wake up… too bad,” Dick hummed, situating himself at the main computer as his fingers began flying over the keyboard, making short work of their firewalls. It was almost _too_ easy.

These people were amateurs.

Dick unplugged his hard drive as soon as the download was complete. Now came his favorite part: the escape.

On his way out of the room, Dick hit the guard over the head again just for good measure.

Everything seemed relatively quiet which was incredibly suspicious considering the fact that the lab he was stealing from was in the heart of Gotham City.

Letting out a slow breath, Dick slipped his mask over his eyes. The cameras would still be disabled, but he was not about to risk identification by whatever backup his hacking had summoned.

_Not that they would know who he was anyway._

But Slade would be rather upset if his protégé was somehow identified, and Dick was not about to deal with an upset Deathstroke. The last time that had happened he had been left nursing bruises for weeks.

Dick stepped cautiously toward the nearest emergency exit, eyes scanning his surroundings, watching for any sign of movement.

_Just a few more steps._

His fingertips brushed the door handle just as he felt the air shift behind him. In one fluid motion, Dick jerked his hand back and whirled around, dropping into a crouch as the very distinct of a batarang slammed into the door right where he had been standing.

“So not cool,” he complained, reaching up to deactivate the communicator in his ear. “I didn’t know this building had a bat infestation.”

Eyes narrowing, Dick scanned the dark hallway, his mask picking up on an infrared signature in one corner. He could imagine Slade cursing on the other end of the line, could practically hear his mentor ordering him to find the nearest exit and get as far away as possible.

But Dick had other ideas. This was the man who had killed his parents; who had murdered them in cold blood. His parents had done nothing wrong. His parents had been _innocents_. But now they were gone, and Batman was the one to blame.

“Come on, Batman… I promise I don’t bite.” His tone was light, teasing despite the war waging inside, eyes scanning the dark hallway for oncoming threats. The incoming batarangs were easily avoided. After all, Dick had formerly been an acrobat. He prided himself on retaining that skill.

A dark form stepped out of the shadows. “Stand down, boy. You do not belong here. I have no wish to fight a child.”

“Well that’s not nice. I’ve been dreaming of this fight for years.”

_Slade was going to be so mad._

Dick knew he was not ready for this fight. He knew that he was in over his head. But he wanted to… well, he wanted to attack.

_No._

He knew better.

“Maybe some other time though,” he informed the Dark Knight, hand slipping into the pocket of his hoodie, fingers closing around a smoke grenade.

As Batman lunged at him, Dick tossed the grenade to the ground and vanished amongst the smoke with a cackle.

Considering how formidable the Dark Knight really was, slipping away through the air vents was incredibly easy.

~•~

“That was incredibly foolish, boy.” Slade chided; displeasure clear in his eyes. “I told you to leave when the mission was complete. When I tell you to leave, you will leave. There will be no trading banter with the so-called heroes. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it… I just wanted to see if he really was all that you said he would be.” Dick crossed his arms over his chest, bottom lip protruding in a pout. “Besides… it wasn’t even a long conversation. It was literally like two sentences.”

Slade sighed, running his hand down his face. “You were irresponsible and childish. I expected better. But this was your first mission, and you weren’t caught, so it wasn’t a total failure. However, you clearly need more training before taking on more tasks.”

“What? No! I can listen. I can still do missions,” he protested, straightening his posture as if to show his master that he really could be responsible. “I succeeded with this one, didn’t I? I got the information.”

“You failed to notice the computer sending a discrete distress signal to Batman, which led to that encounter. With more training, this could have been avoided. And with more training, it will be. This is final.”

“But…” Dick sighed, shoulders slumping. “Fine… I’ll train more. I apologize for arguing, master.”

Slade nodded, eyes scanning over his young apprentice. While he would never admit it, the boy had indeed done quite well. He had anticipated Batman being summoned, and really just wanted to use his appearance to test the boy’s ability to listen and obey. Even with the slight delay, the boy had followed orders. For only having been training with him for six months, this was excellent progress.

“You may go to your room. Food will be ready shortly.”

With a short bow, Dick exited Slade’s office and made his way through the winding corridors to the room that Slade had given him upon his adoption. While the man was far from a father, he had provided everything that Dick could need from an overabundance of clothes to the latest technology.

All in all, things were much better here than at the boy’s home.

For the first time since his parents’ death, Dick actually felt like he had a home.


	6. Training, whining, mushrooms suck

Dick ducked under the oncoming blow, twisting his body to grab onto the arm and using it to launch himself forward. His feet locked around Slade’s neck, the forward momentum bringing them both to the ground.

As they hit the ground, Dick released his hold, flipping onto his hands and springing away, a wide grin spreading across his face. This was the first time he had actually managed to bring the other male down.

“Are you getting weak on me, old man?” He teased, feeling extremely smug over the victory, however small.

Deathstroke chuckled, slowly standing and returning to a fighting stance. “Are you sure you want to be gloating right now, boy? We still have training to do…”

“Come on, Slade. I took you down. Let me feel the aster for a sec.”

“You know how I feel about your weird sayings, Grayson. You can feel the aster when we aren’t in the middle of training.”

“Sounds like you really want me to take you down again.”

“Sounds like you’re ready to be put back in your place, boy.”

Dick moved back into his fighting stance, shifting the grip on the staff that he was using ever so slightly. The grin was still all too present. “Sure, sure, _old man_.”

Slade rolled his eyes, beginning to circle the boy. While the continuous banter back and forth was not something that he had anticipated when agreeing to this assignment, he found that he enjoyed his time with the boy. It felt good to finally have someone to pour his knowledge and skill into, and Dick was the perfect learner, his speed and agility from being a circus performer sometimes even managing to surprise the mercenary.

Dick soaked up all he taught him like a sponge placed in water for the very first time, different fighting styles coming easily to the boy, and Slade was impressed to see how easily he learned to hack into security systems and steal information.

The boy was a prodigy, and that Slade was almost saddened by the knowledge that this perfect apprentice was not one that he could keep.

_Almost._

Dick Grayson was learning fast, faster than the Light had anticipated, and as the boy managed to successfully bring Slade down for a second time, the man smiled grimly.

The boy would soon be ready.

~•~

“Who is this?” Slade pressed a button and the image on the screen changed to that of a blonde woman wearing a black choker.

Dick leaned back in his chair, fighting the urge to spin in circles. Why did Slade have to give him a spinney chair and then tell him to sit still? It was torture on a whole other level.

“Black Canary. She’s good with most forms of martial arts and uses her meta ability, the Canary Cry along with some kind of staff or stick typically. Founding Justice League member and mainly associated with Green Arrow. Personally, I think their dating, but they could also just be really good buds. Maybe they’re siblings? But probably not because in some of the pictures of the two of them they’re totally doing the whole gross adult bedroom eyes thing. I’m not sure if I ship it or not.”

Slade rolled his eyes, raising an eyebrow as Dick shifted to drape himself mostly off the chair. “Could you at least try to look interested? This is important. You need to know all you can about these heroes. If you do not know your enemy, then you can hardly expect to be successful in defeating them.”

“But it’s booooring. We’ve gone over them like five times now. I know all of the important ones.” Dick whined, flipping upside-down on the chair, his hair just barely brushing the floor below.

“These aren’t even Gotham City heroes. Why do I need to know about them when all I’m trying to do is take out Batman?”

“You need to know in the chance that you run into one while on that mission. Everything that I’m trying to teach you is important for you success and safety. Now if you would please just sit up properly, we might be able to finish this and continue on with more interesting training.”  
  
“Ugh… fine. You win. Whatever.”

Dick righted himself on the chair, although he did give it a little spin before he fully settled in, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes at his mentor.

Deathstroke pinched between his brows, letting out a loud and clearly irritated sigh.

Why did he have to get stuck with the child?

~•~

Dick poked the offending vegetables with his fork, nose scrunching up in clear distaste.

“You’re supposed to eat it, not stare at it.”

“But it’s disgusting. Why would you make me eat this?” He sounded clearly distressed, turning his large, watery, blue eyes to Slade.

Slade frowned at him, doing his best not to meet the boy’s pleading gaze. “It isn’t disgusting. Mushrooms are good for you. They help improve brain function.”

“But they’re gross. And slimy. And I hate them.” Dick still looked distressed, his voice taking on a seriously hurt tone. “Are you trying to poison me?”

“I am not trying to poison you. It’s just a mushroom. You’ve eaten them before.”

“Maybe, but that was when they were in stuff. Mushrooms are _fungus_ , Slade. _Fungus_.”

Slade groaned, fighting the strong urge to slam his head against the table. This was exactly why he never had any more children. They were such pains. “If you eat the mushrooms, you can have ice cream for dessert.”

So, this is what life had come to; the legendary fighter had fallen to bribing apprentices with sweets in order to get them to eat their vegetables.

Dick grinned, all distress vanishing from his expression as he quickly shoved the mushroom into his mouth, chewing and swallowing in a matter of moments. “What kind of ice cream?”

A loud thump echoed through the room as Slade banged his head down onto the table, groaning as Dick’s cackling laughter filled the room.


	7. It's time

Dick looked around his room one final time. He did not know if he would ever return here, and as much as he tried to suppress the feeling, he knew that he would miss it.

After all, even when his parents were alive, he had never had a stable home, what with the circus travelling around all over the place.

It had been nice. But Dick knew that what was to come would be even better.

_It was time._

Taking in a slow breath, Dick stepped out of the room and closed his door, slowly making his way toward the training room. 

His fingers glided along the wall, the familiar corridors feeling strangely foreign now that he was about to leave.

_It was time._

Dick felt weird entering the training room in normal civilian clothing, his deliberately tattered jeans and holey t-shirt only further driving home the fact that he would probably never set foot in this room again.

He tried not to feel sad about it.

“Ah, you’re here. Are you ready to go?” Slade asked, looking up from the bag of weapons that he had been packing, a baseball bat protruding ominously from one end.

“I’m ready. How long will it take to get there?”

“A few hours. I’ll debrief you on the way.”

Dick nodded, pushing his fingers back through his hair which Slade had insisted he let grow out to better support their hoax. “I’ll wait in the car.”

Slade hummed in acknowledgement as Dick walked away, a faint limp in the boy’s step.

As Dick slipped into his seat and buckled the seatbelt, he could not help but glance at his reflection in the car window. A face with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes stared back at him.

He smirked. 

There was no way that this plan could fail. Even without the final touches, Dick already looked like he’d been seriously abused, faded bruises and partially healed wounds covering his body.

His hands still shook faintly from the drug that he had taken the night before.

It would take a genius to figure this out.

After all, what kind of person would willingly drug and starve themselves, much less let themselves be beaten for weeks on end.

_It was perfect._

It was not long before Slade joined him in the car, turning it on and pulling out of the driveway and beginning the long drive to Gotham City.

After a few long minutes of silence, Slade began to speak. “You know most of the plan already, but I’m going to go over some of the more important details. First of all…”

Dick gazed absently out the window as Slade continued on, a small smile fixed on his lips.

Finally.

_It was time._

~•~

“I thought you said we don’t trust the crazy ones.” Dick mumbled, nose scrunching up in distaste as they stepped into Joker’s latest hideout, the smell of rotting blood and un-showered goons making him feel more than a little bit queasy.

Slade shook his head, stepping around a crate of grenades. “We don’t trust him. But placing you with him will guarantee that Batman is the one to find you… and it will guarantee that he feels pity for the horrible condition that he will find you in. Just be happy that we got Joker to agree to this… it took quite some pressuring.”

Of course, Joker had not really agreed to this plan. No, the Light were not about to put the continuation of their plan into the hands of a lunatic. Instead, Queen Bee had deployed Psimon to control Joker until the plan was complete.

Dick sighed softly, gaze traveling around the rather disgusting looking room not seeing any sign of the famed Batman villain.

“Where is he?”

“Not here at the moment. He will be here when needed. But first we need to set you up. You remember the details of your mission?”

Dick nodded. He knew the plan. It was quite ingenious, honestly.

He had been impressed when Slade had first told him. And, while he had been worried at first, Dick could not help but feel excited now. Finally, finally, he was taking real steps toward bringing his parents to justice.

The plan was fairly simple, at least after it was set in motion. All Dick would have to do was act innocent, and he was great at pulling the innocent act.

Slade smiled grimly, placing a heavy hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I have faith in you, Dick. You’ll do great. Just remember your training, and you will make me and your parents proud.”

“I will. This is what you trained me for, after all.” Dick tilted his head back, grinning up at the man who had taken him in and trained him; who had offered him a place and a purpose in a world where he had felt so incredibly alone.

“Thankyou, master. Really. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t.” Slade ruffled Dick’s hair before guiding him over to a grimy corner of the room. “Do you want me to knock you out or drug you first?”

Dick shook his head, face setting into a look of determination. “No. I want to feel it. I _need_ to be aware of it happening.”

His master nodded, gesturing for Dick to stand against the wall. “By the time you wake up, the drugs should be out of your system. Are you ready for this, apprentice?”

“Yes. I’m ready.”

It was time.

Time for Batman to suffer.

Dick had been waiting for this moment for years. All his training, all his struggles, had been for this exact moment. And if he had to suffer more first, Dick did not care.

After all, he had been suffering for years.

So, he simply gritted his teeth as his mentor swung a baseball bat into his chest.

He held still as knives dug into his skin.

He stayed silent as his bones were shattered.

As darkness closed in around him, Dick’s lips quirked upward into a venomous smile. He welcomed the unconsciousness, for he knew that the next time he opened his eyes, he would be in the custody of his enemy.

The last thing he saw before slipping under was Deathstroke smiling reassuringly down at him.

Richard Grayson was ready.

It was time for his parents to be avenged.

_It was time._


	8. How to catch a Bat

It was a fairly normal night; or at least, as normal as things got in Gotham City.

Petty criminals were out and about, robbing citizens, police officers were trying and failing to catch them all, and Batman was once again dealing with his nemesis; the Joker.

While the villain had kept a fairly low profile since escaping from Arkham several weeks prior, that had not stopped Batman from tracing his location. After all, it was much safer for everyone if Joker was returned to his cell in Arkham as soon as possible.

It had been hard to track him down, although the suspicious lack of Joker caused destruction did make Batman all the more eager to find the villain.

Still, it had taken him days of searching to finally discover Joker’s latest hideout, an abandoned factory on the very outskirts of Gotham City, partially hidden by woods. 

After some careful scouting around the building, something that revealed nothing besides a few easily knocked out goons, Batman slipped into the building through a broken window. He made fast work of the guard stationed in that room before moving on, his mask automatically switching to night vision as he traversed deeper into the building.

The place was swarming with goons, but he had yet to find any sign of Joker. If anything, this was proving to be more of a nuisance than anything.

Batman stepped out into a larger room, the space noticeably missing guards. As he scanned for any signs of life, infrared picked up on a person in one corner, hidden by crates of what he could only presume to be weapons.

“I don’t have time for your games, Joker.”

He strode forward, batarangs at the ready. However, what he found was far from the villain that he expected, and he barely contained a gasp of horror.

Chained to the wall were the bodies of three boys, although judging from his scan, either only one was still alive, or he had just joined the others in death. All three looked like they had been tortured, blood splattered over the walls and pooling around them, their ragged clothes doing little to hide the fact that they had been starved.

It looked like someone had drawn smiles on each of their faces with blood.

Batman fought the urge to gag as he knelt down next to the boys, pressing his fingers to their necks one by one as he sought after a pulse.

_Please let them still be alive._

By the time he reached the third and smallest of the group, Batman could feel the fury building. If they were all dead… no. He could feel it. The pulse was faint, but it was there.

_He could save one._

Of course, things were never that easy. Just as he reached to break the chains holding the boy to the wall a very familiar voice spoke up.

“Do you like my playthings, Batman? They’ve been so helpful.” Joker laughed as he stepped into the room, flanked by half a dozen goons. “You can’t take them now. I’ve almost finished my experiment.”

Batman growled standing up to face his adversary. He was angry.

_Beyond angry._

“You killed two children, Joker.”  
  
“Dead? No, no. That won’t do at all. This is the third batch that hasn’t made it.” Joker tilted his head to the side, eyeing the bodies of the chained boys. “Oh, goodie! One’s still kicking.”

“You’re going back to Arkham.” Batman spat, fighting back harsher words. Bantering with the villain was not something he had time for. The third boy needed immediate medical attention.

_His time was running out._

And with that thought, Batman lunged into action.

~•~

Hours later Batman sat in his cave, shoulders slumped as he gazed intently at the computer screen in front of him.

Five surgeries.

A seemingly endless amount of blood transfusions.

Enough broken bones and internal damage to leave at the very least scars for life, at the worst lifelong disability.

Numerous unknown and probably deadly drugs.

And possibly worst of all, a brain injury.

_Medically induced coma._

The words lingered on the screen along with an image of the boy practically mummified by bandages and casts lying unconscious on a hospital bed.

With a long sigh, he closed down the page only to pull up another, fingers typing furiously.

It only took a few hours of digging to identify the boy and the other two that had been found with him. All had been in the system and could be traced to a boy’s home which had been closed a few years prior due to suspicions that it was linked to trafficking.

The three boys that he had found were among many that had disappeared from the house at various points in time before it was shut down.

Batman was quick to forward that information along to the police, along with their names: Henry Lee, George Wood, and Richard Grayson.

_Richard Grayson._

The only survivor.

While both of the dead boys had living relatives, although, considering the fact that Henry’s mother was a prisoner at Belle Reve and George’s parents were known gang members, they might have been better off without them, Richard Grayson was a confirmed orphan, parents having died in a circus accident leaving no living relatives.

Even if the boy were to heal and be alright, he would have nowhere to go except the system which had so clearly failed him already. If, as seemed likely, he came out of this severely disabled, things would only be that much worse.

Batman might have rescued him, but there would be no happy ending.

Not unless Batman took some responsibility.

After all, the boy had been tortured at the hands of his foe. The boy was an innocent.

With a final sigh, Batman pulled up the image of Richard Grayson in the hospital bed once more.

_His mind was made up._

“Everything okay, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked, setting a cup of coffee down on the desk as he turned his gaze to look at the screen, smile shifting into a frown as he saw the image displayed there.

Bruce nodded, turning to look at the older man, one eyebrow slowly raising in question. “Do you think I would make a good parent, Alfred?”

Alfred gave him a knowing smile.

“Of course, Master Bruce. Of course.”

~•~

Bruce Wayne signed the adoption papers the next day, and Alfred began setting up a room for the boy.

Unfortunately, a reporter had spotted Bruce visiting the hospital and thus the entirety of Gotham City knew of his adoption even before Dick woke up.

And, as the days bled into weeks with little sign of improvement, the possibilities of waking Dick up became slimmer and slimmer.

Bruce and Alfred made a point to visit the boy most days, even though he would not know they were there, or even who they were.

Nearly a month after his rescue, the doctors deemed his brain healed enough to bring him out of the coma.

As the drugs that had kept him under filtered out of his system, Bruce stayed by the bedside of his son.

For three days, Batman disappeared.


	9. The awakening

_Everything hurt._

Dick took in a shuddering breath, grimacing at how even that simple action made pain shoot through his chest.

It was so bright, and he had yet to even open his eyes.

Maybe he could just go back to sleep…

_No._

Slade would not approve of that, and Dick hated it when he made Slade angry.

Slowly, Dick forced his eyes open, hissing softly as the bright light stung his eyes. He lifted a hand to cover them, frowning when he realized that there was no mobility in his wrist.

He could hear someone moving around and then the lights dimmed.

With a sigh of relief, Dick dropped his hand from his eyes, brows furrowing in confusion as he noted the fact that his right hand and arm was in a splint all the way down to his elbow. He blinked; eyes still watery from the light.   
  
Slowly, Dick registered the fact that there was a man in the room, standing by the door and what he could only presume was the light switch.

“Who… who are you?” His voice cracked, hacking coughs proceeding the question as pain flared in his throat.

_Water._

_He needed water._

Fortunately for Dick, the man seemed fairly aware, stepping over to a sink and filling up a small cup before moving to stand by his bedside. “Shh… just drink this. You’ve been out for a while. It’s probably going to be hard to talk at first.”

Dick took the offered water, gulping it down in a few quick swallows. If he was being honest, he was not exactly sure where he was or how he had gotten there.

Everything just felt so hazy and jumbled.

_He hated it._

The man gave him a gentle smile, taking the cup and refilling it for him before he spoke again.

“So… you’re probably wondering who I am and where you are, huh? My name is Bruce Wayne. I’ve kind of adopted you.” The man… Bruce… rubbed the back of his neck in a slightly awkward manner, making it all too clear to Dick that this man did not talk to children often.

“Sorry about not discussing it with you first and everything, but it was a bit of an emergency situation. You needed surgeries that the government was not willing to fund, and the simplest option was to become your legal guardian in order to authorize it all.”

Dick frowned. Something felt off about that answer, but at the moment he was far too out of it to care.

“Okay… Bruce… where am I? What… what happened?”

“You don’t remember? That makes sense, I guess.” Bruce frowned ever so slightly. He would have to talk to the doctors about the possibilities of the boy having memory impairments. “You were found in the hideout of a villain, Joker. Batman rescued you and brought you here, to Gotham Central Hospital. From what Batman and the police can gather, he was using you and others as test subjects for a new drug. Although what kind of drug is known.”

Dick bit his lower lip as he nodded slowly, brows furrowing in concentration.

_Right._

_The plan._

He remembered Slade saying that he was being left with Joker, remembered Slade telling him that the set up would be perfect. From Dick understood thus far, this Bruce guy did not seem aware of the fact that he was not just a victim of crime.

_He could use that._

“I don’t… I don’t remember,” he mumbled, pouring all the pain and distress he was currently feeling into his words. Even to his own trained ears they sounded real.

Bruce nodded, giving him a reassuring smile.

_The idiot bought it._

“That’s okay. We can figure this out. I’ll make sure that you have every support needed for your recovery.”

If Dick did not know better, he would have thought that Bruce was acting almost guilty. But that was impossible. What would he have to be guilty about Dick’s injuries?

“How bad is it?” He asked, struggling to sit up so that at the very least he could assess his injuries.

Bruce frowned, gently pushing him back down onto the bed. “No, don’t move. I can raise the bed so you’re sitting, but it’s for the best if you don’t try moving around too much yet. You’ve been here for about a month, so some things have healed but there was a lot of damage.”

“Right… okay.”

Dick sighed, falling silent as the man fiddled around with buttons on a small remote, the back of the bed slowly rising until Dick was sitting up.

“Wow. You weren’t kidding. This is totally not asterous.”

“It’s not what?”

“Nevermind.” Dick waved his hand absently before remembering that it was in fact in a cast. He glanced at his left hand, pleased to discover that that one seemed relatively okay.

_Good time to be ambidextrous._

He flexed the fingers in his good hand, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he discovered that it was in fact functional.

After some toe wiggling and muscle tensing, Dick came to the conclusion that both his legs had probably been broken and were in the process of healing, although his right one felt a bit more mobile.   
  
What felt by far the worst was his chest, each breath burning more painfully than the last.

“Do you feel ready for food?”

Bruce’s voice startled Dick from his assessment and he quickly looked up, eyes widening as he realized that yes, the other male was still standing there observing him.

Cheeks flushing from embarrassment, Dick looked away again.

“I think so? I don’t… I’m not sure when I ate last.”

That at least was true.

He had been on a strict diet of starvation for weeks leading up to the plan’s enaction. Sure, there had been some fruit thrown in here or there when his blood sugar dropped too low, but Dick really was not sure when his last meal had been.

“Alright.” Bruce turned around and fiddled with his phone for a moment before turning back to look at Dick. “How would you feel about getting out of here?”

Dick blinked, eyeing his broken legs distrustfully. “Don’t I have to be monitored or whatever?”

“No, they monitored you carefully as you were waking up. Besides, if something goes wrong, I can always bring you back. I just figured that you might want a more comfortable room.” Bruce sounded unsure, his gaze fixed on Dick, eyeing him warily as if the boy might suddenly go rabid and bite him if he said the wrong thing.

_Totally not good with kids._

“Not being in a hospital sounds nice.” Dick agreed, giving Bruce his sweetest smile. This was going to be all too easy. The man clearly did not know how to handle children and Dick could easily use that to his advantage.

Bruce summoned a nurse and soon he was wheeling Dick out of the hospital and helping him into a sleek black car which was waiting at the entrance.

A friendly looking older man sat at the steering wheel.

“Richard, this is Alfred, my butler and longtime family friend. If you ever need anything, you can just ask him and he will assist you.” Bruce explained, nodding toward the man.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Master Richard.” Alfred said, smiling at him through the rearview mirror as he pulled out from the hospital parking lot.

“Dick… you can just call me Dick.”

“Alright then, Master Dick.”

The rest of the drive continued on in silence, Dick’s eyes unfocusing as he gazed absently out the window. He had barely done anything and already he felt exhausted.

_Slade would be disappointed._

Dick barely noticed when the car came to a stop, only snapping out of his haze when Bruce came around to help him out of the car and into his wheelchair.

He blinked a few times, eyes going wide as he took in his surroundings.

“It’s huge!” He gasped, tilting his head back to better take in the grandeur of the mansion in front of him. The building was truly massive, at least four stories tall with an impressive entryway and massive front door. It was practically a castle.

Bruce chuckled at his reaction, smiling down at Dick. “Ah, yes… welcome Wayne Manor, your new home.”


	10. When your legs don't work like they used to before

Dick gritted his teeth, taking a shaky step toward the door.

_So close._

He had already made it halfway from the bed. All it would take was two more steps.

_Just two more._

Taking another step forward, Dick did his best to steady his breathing.

_In…_

_Out._

_In…_

_Out._

On his next step, Dick’s legs gave out from under him and he hit the ground with a thump, pain radiating up from his knees.

“So not asterous.” Dick grumbled under his breath, letting out an irritated sigh as the door to his room swung open and Alfred stepped into the room.

The butler looked around the room before his eyes focused on Dick’s sprawled out form. “Master Dick, you are aware of the fact that we have furniture you could be sitting on, correct?” He asked, amusement all too evident.

This was the second time this week that Alfred had come to his rescue and it was only Monday afternoon.

With a long groan, Dick shook his head, spreading out on the floor in an attempt to get more comfortable.   
  
“I dunno, Alfred. The floor is kind of comfortable. You sure you don’t want to join me?”

At least humor was better than becoming frustrated.

Alfred simply shook his head, reaching down to help Dick up. “You know, if you just wait a bit longer and do your arm exercises like the doctor told you then you’ll be able to go on crutches. Trying to walk like this will only cause more injuries.”  
  
“I know, I know… you told me that last time. But it’s frustrating.”

“It’ll be more frustrating if you reinjure yourself.”

Dick stood with Alfred’s help and the butler guided him back to his waiting wheelchair, brow furrowing in concern. “At the very least use your chair to get to the living room where there are more things to lean on.”

“Admit it, Alfie… you just don’t want to keep coming in here to save me.” Dick forced a tired smile, patting the side of the wheelchair. “But I guess you have a point. I can practice walking where you can supervise.”

~•~

Dick sat curled up on the couch, hand clenching and unclenching around a stress ball while he read. He had given up on trying to walk after collapsing for what felt like the hundredth time and Alfred had grown tired of helping him up, promising chocolate cake after dinner if Dick gave it a rest.

While he was not one to normally fall for bribes, Dick had agreed readily enough. Chocolate cake was worth giving his already shaking legs a rest.

It was strange – the domestic setting of the Wayne Manor. Alfred acted as more of a father than a butler to Bruce, and Bruce himself was hardly home at all.

During the first few days of his recovery, his new ‘father’ had hung around, making sure that he was doing alright. However, that did not last long and when Dick had asked where he went Alfred had simply informed him that Bruce Wayne was the owner and CEO of a very large corporation and thus had a lot of work to do.

Dick did not know enough of the man to form a clear judgment on him, aside from the fact that he clearly was not good with kids. Maybe Dick was scaring him away? He did not know for sure.

But he had discovered that he quite liked Alfred, the older man helping him with his physical therapy as well as making him delicious snacks when he felt down about his progress.

_Slade never made him chocolate cake._

However, as much as Alfred was around, Dick could not help but feel lonely. At least with Slade he had someone to pass banter back and forth with. Alfred was not the kind of man to accept Dick’s generally playful manner, no matter how nice he had been.

He sighed, setting the book and stress ball down and maneuvering himself into his wheelchair.

“I’m going to my room, Alfred.”

The butler simply hummed in acknowledgement, focused on his task of preparing dinner.

Sighing again, Dick wheeled himself down the hallway and into the room that had been designated as his. It was huge. Far too massive for a single child, much less one who was currently wheelchair bound and unable to move about freely.

_Odd._

The window was open.

Dick definitely had not opened the window, and he knew for a fact that Alfred had not been in his room since the butler had brought him out into the living room earlier that day.

He doubled checked that his door was closed before wheeling himself forward a bit faster.

Approaching the window, Dick looked out over the massive lawn behind the manor.

Nothing seemed out of place.

He reached up, pulling the window closed before turning back around, eyes scanning the room, searching for anything that seemed even remotely out of place.

_There._

The closet door was cracked open, mere centimeters different from what it had been, but Dick knew better than to ignore the difference.

_Slade had taught him better._

Approaching as cautiously as was possible in a wheelchair, Dick pulled the door open, bracing himself for an attack.

When no attack came, he began looking over the items in the closet carefully. It was well stocked with clothes, far too many for Dick to ever really use, especially since he really wore athletic clothing.

There were _suits._ Why on earth would a fourteen-year-old need a suit?

Pushing the suits aside, Dick moved toward the back of the closet, his chair fitting easily in the massive open space. Seriously, this closet was almost as big as his family’s circus trailer had been.

_So unnecessary._

It only took a few more minutes of searching before Dick spotted something else out of place.

A shoe was ever so slightly crooked, not noticeable to most, but to Dick it stood out like a sore thumb amongst the rows of perfectly straight pairs.

He slipped out of his chair, carefully situating himself against the wall before reaching for the shoe and picking it up.

A careful examination revealed that the sole was loose. Dick removed it and set it aside, a grin slipping over his lips as he pulled out a bottle of pills and a rolled-up note.

Setting the pills aside, Dick focused in on the note, holding it close to his eyes to better read the tiny writing.

**The infiltration is going smoothly. Good job. The pills are to increase your anxiety levels and induce nightmares. Take one before bed at random intervals. This will further the traumatized act and make serious questioning less of a possibility. Remember your training to block mind readers. Once you have further recovered, wait for my signal to begin stage three.**

**-Slade**

Dick laughed softly to himself, tearing the note up into small pieces and quickly swallowing them, thus destroying any evidence of his master’s communication.

_Slade really had thought of everything._

It would be easy to hide the pills among the various others that the doctors had prescribed. They looked exactly like his painkillers, something that Slade had probably also planned.

Not like Dick was actually taking those anyway.

Replacing the sole to the shoe, Dick carefully straightened the pair to match the others before climbing back into his chair and wheeling himself out of the closet.

He had barely enough time to dispose of the painkillers and swap in Slade’s pills before Alfred called him for dinner.

Bruce was not there for the meal.

_Busy with work._

Dick went to bed early.

Late that night screams echoed through the vast expanse of the manor.


	11. Infiltration success

“How would you feel about starting therapy?”

How did he feel?

He felt like it was a loaded question. Of course, the first time his new ‘father’ wanted to talk was to discuss something as idiotic as _therapy_. Bruce had probably already scheduled him an appointment.

Dick did not need therapy.

No, he just needed to get this stupid act over with so he could find Batman and get his revenge.

Playing the traumatized orphan kid was growing tiring. Quite literally tiring. The dark bags under his eyes attested to just how well the pills had been working.

_Almost too well._

He was growing sick and tired of seeing his parents dying in his dreams night after night. The constant paranoia was not helping either.

_Play nice._

Dick rubbed at his eyes, a tired sigh slipping past his lips as he blinked across the counter at Bruce. “I don’t want to talk to a stranger about stuff… it’s not going to help. I-I don’t… I _can’t_.”

“Talking to someone could help. If not a therapist, then how about me? What was this one about?” Bruce asked, his ever stoic tone hinting faintly of concern as he set a steaming mug of hot chocolate down in front of Dick. “You cannot continue like this. It isn’t healthy. You clearly haven’t been sleeping, and you’re losing weight which is not safe in your condition.”

Dick sighed again, tucking his hands around the mug and relishing in the warmth as Bruce moved around the counter to sit on the stool next to him.

Slade used to make hot chocolate when he had first taken him in and he would have nightmares about his parents’ deaths. It was strange; to have someone else doing the same.

Especially since these nightmares were self-inflicted.

Bruce was probably just done with being woken up all the time. After all, this had been going on for a little over a month.

Silence enveloped the two as Dick thought over his options. Was this the right time?

_Maybe._

A quick glance at the clock showed him that it would not be easy to escape the situation.

_3:15am._

Bruce did not normally leave for work until around seven.

Dick yawned loudly before taking a small sip of the hot chocolate. “My parents.”

“It was about your parents? The accident?”

He gave a small nod, concentrating on channeling all of the pain and hurt he felt into his words. “I don’t… I-I… it wasn’t an accident.”

“Why not? Do you have evidence?” Bruce’s tone remained calm and soothing, leaving Dick fighting the urge to sneer.

The man was so stupid. It was almost too easy to feed him lies.

After all, who would suspect a child, much less one who had so clearly been victimized?

_The plan was perfect._

Dick shook his head, twisting the mug in his hands, his teeth sinking into his lower lip. For all intents and purposes, he looked like an anxious, traumatized, child.

“No… I don’t have e-evidence, but… but I s-saw people the night it happened. And… and I heard them arguing with Mr. Haley… the Ringmaster,” he paused, taking in a shaky breath. “S-some of the men from th-that… that n-night… they were a p-part of the p-people who had me before J-J-Joker. It was a-a gang.”

“You think that your parents were killed because a disagreement between the Ringmaster, Haley, and a gang? I mean… it is possible. If you want, I can get people to look into it, okay? Would that help?” Bruce sounded more genuinely concerned now, reaching over to place a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Inwardly, Dick grinned.

_So perfect._

He sniffled softly, looking up at Bruce with his large, tear filled, blue eyes. “Y-you would do that? R-r-really?”

Bruce stood up, enveloping Dick in a warm and comforting embrace. “Of course.”

To Bruce, this was major progress. Dick had yet to truly open up to any of them about his time prior to residing in Wayne Manor. What he had just shared was a huge step forward. It showed that the boy was beginning to trust him. And Bruce promised himself that he would cherish that trust.

As Dick cried into his chest, Bruce tightened his hold around his son’s frail body, anger toward those who had made him this broken building.

But he could not be angry. Dick needed him now.

Fingers brushing gently through the raven black hair, Bruce began to speak once more. “I understand wanting to find out the truth about your parents’ deaths. Mine were killed when I was a child as well…”

Dick tuned out Bruce’s heartfelt sharing of familial woes, focusing instead on the confusing feeling rising in his chest.

This was just a mission.

So why did he feel so safe and secure held in Bruce’s embrace?

~•~

It was only a few days after his shared moment with Bruce when Dick received Slade’s signal; yet another note hidden in the shoe.

This message was even more brief and straight to the point than the last one:

**The time has come.**

**-Slade**

Disposing of it carefully, Dick stretched out his arms and grinned.

_Finally._

He had not spent his time injured wastefully. No, he had been scouting.

Dick was ready. He had completely memorized the mansion’s floorplan and knew every detail of Alfred and Bruce’s comings and goings.

Slipping out would be easy.

What came after would be more difficult, but Dick was ready. 

He had practiced for what was to come, had memorized what to say depending on the moment, had perfected his ability to lie into an art. 

Things were about to get risky, but Dick was ready for that risk. 

_No._

Not just ready. 

Dick was excited. Finally, _finally_ , it was time to focus on the main objective: taking down Batman. 

The infiltration had been a success. 


	12. Hook, line, and sinker

Sneaking out of the house was indeed quite a simple matter.

He did not even have to hack the security cameras, as most of the security focused on keeping people out rather than in.

As Dick stood, brushing off his clothes and glancing back at the manor, dark and foreboding in the night, a slow smile spread across his lips. Everything was playing right into his hands.

He turned back toward the road, beginning the long walk to inner Gotham City.

It would take a while, but Dick quite liked being alone in his thoughts, mulling over the next step in the plan.

Thus far, things could not have possibly worked out more perfectly.

Slade had been right about the connection between Bruce Wayne and Batman. While it was unsure _what_ exactly that connection was, it was most definitely there. That much had been proven when news sources showed that Batman had taken a more serious interest in gang activity ever since his talk with Bruce.

_Just as planned._

Now all Dick needed to do was place himself in the crossfire.

A few miles away from the manor Dick found a motorcycle partially hidden in a clump of bushes.

_Slade really had thought of everything._

The rest of the trip into the city went by quickly, although Dick did avoid the main roads. After all, it would look rather odd to most people if a young child was seen speeding down the street.

He ditched the motorcycle in a back alley several blocks from his final destination, leaving the keys on the seat. It would be stolen within minutes of him walking away.

Dick loved Gotham.

The thievery made it easy to clean up evidence.

Making his way cautiously through darkened alleyways, Dick tugged his hood over his hair, pulling it down enough to partially cover his face. He had put effort into dressing like an amateur, down to a black hoodie and red bandana wrapped around the lower half of his face.

To him, it looked stupid.

To others, it would hopefully look like he was a clueless kid who did not know what they were doing. Clueless child usually fell into the cute category, and Dick knew how to play up his cute and innocent act.

Things were only about to get worse. He hated this part of the plan.

_It was going to be so embarrassing._

Letting out a long sigh, Dick tugged the cover off an air vent and slipped inside. He did his best to make it sloppy, leaving the vent cover partially off as he made his way into the building. When he exited the vent, he deliberately let the cover clatter to the ground, alerting those in the building that there was an intruder.

He scrunched up his nose in distaste as his eyes scanned the mostly empty room. It looked like an office.

_Good._

Dick did his best to channel his inner good-doer child and hid under the desk.

It had not been hard to figure out which mob run warehouse Batman would hit next. After all, he had been targeting one group in particular.

Poor Tony Zucco.

He was just _too_ perfect to set up.

The man had a history in the circus for crying out loud. He was even known for bullying any performative acts that entered Gotham, and he had been around back when Dick’s parents were killed.

Of course, Dick knew that the only reason Batman would be targeting Zucco was because of the connection to child trafficking which Dick explained to Bruce, and not in fact the murder of his parents.

_Because Batman killed them._

There was no way that Batman would pass up a lead to bust some child traffickers. And, judging by the pattern that Dick had observed on the news, this was the last warehouse openly owned by Tony Zucco.

_Batman would be here._

Dick listened as footsteps passed the door to the office, waiting a few moments before he slipped out from under the desk and made his way over to the door, inching it open slowly.

Like most warehouses, this one was primarily open space with a few office rooms along one wall, making it easy to see the guards patrolling the high catwalks and along the floor.

Looking up, Dick scanned the darkness of the ceiling.

_Surely… there._

_A darker shape in the farthest corner._

Dick grinned.

_Batsy was here._

He stepped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him before sneaking toward a pile of crates. It was going to be hard, not revealing his true fighting skill while also trying to put enough in to seem promising, but he was always ready for a challenge.

With a final glance up at the dark shadow of Batman in the rafters, Dick sprang into action, launching himself at the nearest guard.

_Acrobat, not fighter. Acrobat, not fighter. Not trained._

He focused on moving fluidly, relying on what he remembered from his time in the circus and street fighting tactics that would make sense with his fabricated background.

It only took a few moments of his poor fighting attempts before Batman swooped down to join the fight.

Hiding his smirk, Dick ducked to avoid an oncoming knife thrust, flipping back onto his hands to propel himself forward, foot slamming into the guard’s face.

_Too smooth._

Dick tilted his body ever so slightly, throwing himself off balance and rolling to the floor in a heap.

Gunshots rang through the air, and Dick had to put effort into not rolling away faster. A bullet grazed his shoulder and he let out an exaggerated cry of pain before a hand was on his shoulder and he was jerked out of the way.

Batman pulled the boy behind him, speaking in a rough growl. “What do you think you’re doing? You don’t even have a weapon? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“I’m trying to _help_.” Dick protested, sounding genuinely offended.

“This is not your fight, kid.” Batman snapped, grasp now firm on Dick’s arm as he jerked him behind a pile of crates to avoid a new onslaught of bullets.

Dick frowned, yanking hard against his grip. “Let go of me. This is my fight. This place belongs to the man who killed my family.”

Batman turned his head to glower down at the boy before he was distracted by a guard who was now dangerously close. “Just… just stay here. I have work to do.”

And with that, Batman released Dick’s arm and hurtled himself into the midst of the fight.

Even Dick had to admit that he was an impressive fighter.

However, that did not mean that he was about to stay out of it. If it was Slade telling him then sure, maybe he would have stayed put. But this was Batman. And Dick _hated_ Batman.

So, naturally, Dick rejoined the fight.   
  
Even with Dick deliberately holding back, the fight did seem incredibly easy, although that was probably also due to the fact that Batman took out almost every goon that Dick was trying to target.

_It was infuriating._

Still, Dick managed to get successfully beaten up while also dealing a decent amount of damage before the fight was over.

Panting softly, he reached up to wipe away the blood trickling from his probably broken nose, deliberately knocking his hood back to reveal his full features, the bandana having come loose fairly early on in the fight.

Batman was not impressed.

“ _Richard_?” The dark knight asked, tone a mixture between disbelief and anger.

Dick blinked up at him, brows furrowing in mock confusion, one hand moving up to clutch at the shoulder which had been grazed earlier. “I… do I know you?”

Batman practically growled, hand clamping down on Dick’s uninjured shoulder as he forcefully guided him out of the building. He stayed silent until they were both safely situated in the Batmobile before pulling down his cowl and turning to glower at the boy.

Dick blinked. Then he blinked again. Huh.

_Interesting._

Bruce Wayne did not just have a connection with Batman. Bruce Wayne _was_ Batman.

And Bruce Wayne looked about ready to kill his adopted son.

“What exactly do you think you were doing? That was dangerous! You’ve only just recovered from what Joker did to you. Were you trying to get killed? How did you even get here?” Bruce demanded, concern and anger lacing together into a genuinely terrifying tone.

Dick looked away, fiddling anxiously with his fingers. “I walked… I… I wanted to help… It was _my_ family that he killed… _me_ that was trafficked and tortured. It was my fight. I wanted to take him down.”

Bruce shook his head, starting up the vehicle and beginning to drive. “That does not make this acceptable. What if I hadn’t been there? How did you even know that that place belonged to Zucco?”

“I didn’t know his name. But you… _Batman_ … Batman has been taking out warehouses like that. It’s all over the news. It wasn’t hard to figure out. Besides… you can’t be mad at me when you’ve been lying to me this whole time. _You’re_ Batman. _You_. My adopted father. What kind of person adopts someone and doesn’t spend any time with them because they’re out fighting random criminals? What if _you_ died, huh? I-I… I’ve already lost one f-father…”

Dick was laying it on thick. Even he could tell that. But, as he forced out tears and made his shoulders shake, he knew that it was working.

Bruce sighed, reaching over to gently ruffle Dick’s hair. “Hey… shhh… it’s okay. I’m not going to die, okay? I’ve been doing this for too long to let some ordinary thugs take me out. But that still doesn’t make what you did okay, alright, bud?”

Dick sniffled, curling up on the seat and refusing to look at Bruce.

_Ugh. Acting vulnerable was such a pain._

“W-why not? If you can fight them, why can’t I?”

“That’s not…” Bruce trailed off with another sigh, falling silent for a few more moments. “I’ve had training, okay? You’re not ready for this kind of thing. Take tonight for example. You could have been seriously hurt. You _were_ hurt.”

This time, Dick did turn to look at him, blue eyes wide and filled with tears but filled with determination, nonetheless. “Then _train_ me, Bruce. I… you can’t stop me from trying to fight. I’ll just sneak out again. If you want me to stay safe, then let me help. Teach me how to help.”

Bruce fought back a groan. How could he say no when Dick was looking at him like that? It was not fair. So, he uttered the words that would change his life forever:

“Fine. I’ll train you.”


	13. Starting from scratch... not

“Dick, please step away from the rack of dangerous weapons.”

“You do know that saying ‘dangerous’ really makes me want to get closer, right?” Dick asked, making air quotes around the word dangerous, reaching forward to poke the tip of a batarang. “Ow… why is it so sharp?”

Bruce sighed, stepping over to take Dick’s hand, examining the small cut. “I did tell you to stay away. You aren’t ready for sharp objects yet.”  
  
Dick huffed, glowering at the batarang. “I’m totally ready for sharp objects. You’ve been training me for like a month. When do I get to actually do things?”

“When I think you’re ready. And considering the fact that you’re still poking the weapons and getting injured, I don’t think you’re ready yet.”

Dick narrowed his eyes at Bruce, huffing again and pulling his hand back. “I just wanted to touch it. Touching things is fine.” He crossed his arms over his chest, annoyance practically radiating off him in waves.

Bruce simply shook his head. “You’re not ready.”

“Oh? And when will I be ready, exactly? Never? You can’t keep me here forever, Bruce. Hell, you haven’t even let me make a costume yet.”

“You don’t need a costume if you’re not ready. If it would make you feel better, we can train more.”

“I hate you.” Dick huffed; true malice hidden under his playful tone.

Bruce simply ruffled his hair, before walking to the training mat.

~•~

“Robin.”

“What?”

“I want my hero name to be Robin. My mami used to call me her little Robin. I want to be Robin.” Dick left out the true reason for picking the name; it reminded him of his mission, reminded him not to get too connected to the life that he was building here with his enemy.

Bruce nodded. “Alright… Robin.”

~•~

“Master Dick? Is it okay? I can always change it if it’s too similar. Or if you decide you do not like it.” Alfred said, concern clear in his tone.

Dick bit his lower lip, genuine tears welling up in his eyes. The colors… the style… it was so similar and yet… and yet so different.

Turning, Dick hugged Alfred, shoulders shaking with sobs, small body relaxing into the embrace as the butler wrapped him up in his arms.   
  
“There, there, Master Dick. It’s okay. You don’t have to keep this one. It’s alright.”

Dick pulled back, shaking his head as he gazed up at Alfred, a wide smile stretching across his lips. “No, Alfred. It’s _perfect_.”

And truly, it was.

The red, black, and gold uniform reminded him all too much of what his family had worn while performing.

 _It hurt_.

But he loved it.

~•~

“Why can’t I meet any of the other heroes or their partners?”

“Because they’re busy. Now would you please stop doing that?”

Dick pouted but did not stop spinning around upside-down on his chair. “Oh, come on, _Batman_. I know about the group of superhero buddies that started. Why can’t I hang out with the superhero buddies?”

Bruce frowned, placing a hand on the back of Dick’s chair to stop the spinning. “Superhero buddies? You mean the Young Justice Team? You’re not ready for that yet. How did you even find out about that?”

“Oh, come on… you taught me how to hack.” Dick protested, rolling his eyes. Of course, he knew how to hack already, but it was easy to disguise what he already knew as a keen interest and natural ability. “You can’t just expect me _not_ to look through all the files.”

Of course, that was not the full truth either. Slade had told him about the group in one of hist latest messages. Plans had changed. Phase four was now to join the group of kiddy heroes.

_Get in with the Bat, join the kiddy league, get more freedom, meet with Slade, do final takedown._

Pretty simple steps, honestly.

And thus far it really was going off without a hitch.

Except for the fact that Bruce insisted that he always needed more training.

_The man was even more annoying about it than Slade had been._

“Dick, how many times do I have to tell you _not_ to hack into my systems? If there’s anything that you need to know, I will tell you. If I don’t tell you then you don’t need to know.”

“But I wanted to know. There’s a difference.”

Bruce sighed.

_Children were really not his thing._

~•~

“So?”

“So what?”

“So how’d I do?”

“You did fine.”

“Fine? _Seriously_? This was the first time that you let me go out with you and all you have to say is that I did _fine_?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing. Whatever.”

“Dick…”

~•~

“I’m bored.”

“What?”  
  
“You’re boring. All you do is work and old man stuff.”

“Excuse you?”

Dick shrugged, leaning back in his chair until it was almost tipping over. “Like I said… you’re boring. And Alfred isn’t much better. I’ve been on missions now, right? Just the other week you said I did great. Let me join the hero buddy squad. _Please_ , Bruce.”

Bruce glanced over at the boy, brows furrowing into a frown as he saw just how close to tipping onto the floor he was. He did in fact appear quite bored.

It could not hurt to let him hang around kids his own age, right?

Was he hurting Dick’s development by not letting him associate with children his own age?

Maybe that was why the boy acted so mischievous and rebellious half the time.

While Bruce was unsure about truly leaving him on his own, after all, Dick still had nights where he woke up the house screaming.

Would he really be safe if Bruce let him go on missions with other children?

Bruce was not sure.

But with the way Dick was looking at him now, well… how could Bruce say no to that?

He sighed, running a hand down his face, finding himself giving in for the second time. “Fine… I’ll introduce you to the team.”

Dick grinned before accidentally tilting the chair too far back and falling rather ungracefully to the floor.

It was worth it.

For that smile, Bruce would do anything.

He would not fail this child like he had the last.


	14. Asterous or nah?

- _Recognized Batman 02-_

- _Recognized Robin B07-_

“Huh… you know, I can’t say I knew where you were storing them, but this place isn’t half bad. Consider me thoroughly whelmed.” Dick commented, eyes roaming over the clearly high-tech equipment in the otherwise fairly barren area adjoining the zeta tubes.

Batman sighed, shaking his head and walking toward the living area of the mountain. “Please at least try to be on good behavior, okay? I know it’s probably going to be awkward at first but try to keep the strange behavior to a minimum.”

Dick frowned, glancing up at his mentor, anxiety ridden eyes hidden behind his mask. “What if they don’t like me, Br-Batman? I don’t… I can’t even remember the last time I hung out with kids my own age.”

“It’ll be fine. If you don’t like them or this doesn’t work, you can always leave. There is no obligation to stay.” Batman reassured, placing a comforting hand on Dick’s shoulder.

Dick took in a shaky breath, nodding. He was not faking the anxiety this time. He really had no idea how to interact with people his own age. The last time he had spoken to a non-adult had been at the boys’ home and that was years ago.

Besides, he barely even talked to them.

His last genuine friend had been Tommy, but Tommy was long gone.

_Tommy had abandoned him._

_Everyone abandoned him._

_Everyone but Slade._

As they stepped into the living room, Dick did his best to brace himself for conversation. It could not be _that_ bad, right?

Boy was he wrong.

He could practically feel the stares burning into his skull.

Batman cleared his throat, hand remaining on Dick’s shoulder, something that, in the moment, Dick took comfort in. “Team, this is my partner, Robin. I will be sending him with you on today’s mission.”

Dick did a little, awkward, wave. “Hi.”

The speedster was the first to step forward, a friendly grin spreading across his lips as he offered Dick his hand. “Hi, Rob. Do you mind if I call you Rob? I’m Kid Flash.”

“Rob… sure. I don’t mind.” Dick took his offered hand, returning the speedster’s grin. The other boy was so easy to read. “You work with the Flash, right? Your speed powers are totally asterous. I wish I could do stuff like that.”

Kid Flash grinned even wider. “Nah. I’ve seen you on the news. You’ve got some pretty sick moves yourself.”

_Naïve. Easy to manipulate._

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team.”

Dick let the redhead tug him away from Batman, nodding and greeting everyone as politely as he could. After all, it would not do to make enemies this early on.

“This is Miss Martian. She’s got super cool telepathy powers and can go invisible.”

The green girl smiled sweetly, waving at Dick. “Please, just call me M’gann.”

 _Awkward. Probably even more naïve than Kid Idiot._

Next came Superboy, also known as Conner Kent. “He’s like Superman, but no flight or laser eyes.”

_Short tempered. Not very smart._

“Kaldur, Aqualad, is our leader. He’s Atlantean.”

_This one would be dangerous. Smart._

Kid Flash paused as he pointed to the last person, a blonde girl with a green superhero outfit. “Oh, and that’s Artemis. She’s a pain.”   
  
The last part was whispered to Dick, and he could not resist letting out a small laugh, nudging Kid Flash with his elbow. “Right, right. Okay. It’s nice to meet you all.”

His eyes narrowed under his mask as he watched the girl, Artemis, warily.

Dick knew this girl.

_Artemis Crock, rogue daughter of Sportsmaster._

She had a role to play, even if she did not yet know it.

The room settled into a semi-awkward silence as the introductions came to a close, and Dick found himself unable to resist sending a pleading look back towards Batman.

As much as he hated the hero, he knew how to take a hint.

“Alright. Now that you have all been introduced, I would like to discuss our mission. If you would…” Batman gestured toward the training area before making his way over there himself. It only took a few moments for him to pull up a map and begin explaining their mission.

“The Watchtower detected an immense power surge in the Bialyan desert. Spectral analysis revealed elements non-terrestrial in origin. Find out what happened at that site; what landed there. Bialya is a rouge state ruled by Queen Bee and not a member of the League’s UN charter. All communications are subject to interception. Maintain radio silence at all times. You’ll land in Qurac on Bialya’s border two clicks from the hotspot.”

Each new piece of information came with a photo, which Dick quickly memorized. He knew of Queen Bee. While he had never run into her personally, Slade had made sure that Dick memorized the powers and attributes of villains as well as heroes.

_There was no such thing as too much information._

The team broke up after the briefing, heading to their rooms to gather up whatever they needed for the mission. Meanwhile, Batman lead his partner to a secluded corner.

“Are you sure you want to go with them? There’s still no harm in returning with me.”

If Dick did not know better, he could have sworn that Batman was _concerned_ for him. He rolled his eyes under his mask, shaking his head. “I want to do this. I… I’m ready for this. Don’t you trust me, _dad_.”

The last word was whispered, but it was the perfect added effect.

Batman’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly as he reached forward, tugging Dick into a hug. “I do trust you. I know that you’ll do great. It’s just hard knowing that if something happens, I won’t be there to protect you. Promise me you’ll be careful.”

Dick nodded, stepping back from the hug. “I promise. And if it isn’t totally asterous, then I can always just make it a one-time thing. After all, how hard can one mission be?”

~•~

_Six months._

That was what was missing.

Why six months? Dick was honestly not sure.

Hell, he was not even sure where he was.

_Some kind of desert?_

But why would he be in a desert?

Batman had barely started letting him go out to fight. There was no possible way that the hero had let him go to a desert of all places.

Nope.

Not possible.

Batman was more smothering than his mother had been, and that was when he was a kid and incapable of taking care of himself.

The only possible explanation for this was that it was a test.

And these kinds of tests only came from one person.

_Slade._

But why would Slade interrupt the plan for a test?

Dick sighed, shaking his head and standing slowly, eyes scanning the vast expanse of sand stretching out in every direction. “Well, at least I can check off sightseeing as a possibility,” he mumbled to himself.

_There._

A piece of black fabric lay a few meters away. Maybe it had a clue?

_No._

Just a Superman symbol. Why would a Superman symbol be out in a desert?

“Nope. Totally not feeling the aster on this one.” Dick sighed, fingers tapping at his holo-glove, turning it on and pulling up his coordinates.

 _Weird_.

He had a GPS marker down not far from his current location. Strange, yes, but a clue nonetheless.

If this was Slade, Dick would make sure not to disappoint his master. If it was someone else playing tricks with him, Dick would make them pay.

Unfortunately, rather than bring some clarity, the marked location only caused more confusion.

_Why did he mark the location of a weird looking box?_

The empty space in his memory was giving Dick a headache. He had been trained to resist mind tricks. It was shameful to have fallen for one now, even if Slade had been the cause of it.

_Especially if Slade caused it._

Dick eyed the metal box for a few long moments before coming to a decision. There was no harm in at least trying to figure out what the thing was or if it did anything useful.

He had only taken a few steps toward the box when the soldiers attacked. A slow smile spread across his lips.

_Finally, something interesting._

But no, even the rush of fighting had to be ruined by kiddy heroes showing up. Even worse, Dick only recognized one of them, and of the ones that he did not recognize, one was clearly a Martian.

His eyes narrowed, stance shifting ever so slightly. If the Martian was behind this memory gap, then that would mean that she had been in his mind.

_She would know._

“Robin! You’re okay!” Miss Martian exclaimed, drifting down to the sand and stepping toward Dick.

Dick frowned, raising a hand. “Stay back.” While the Martian certainly was not acting like she knew his secret, Dick was still extremely on edge. Better to play it safe. “No offense, but I don’t know if I can trust any of you. I haven’t even _met_ any of you. So until you can prove that you’re not enemies, I don’t want you stepping any closer.”  
  
“Oh, come on… we totally just helped save you from those soldiers. There’s no way you would have gotten them all by yourself. Besides, I’m guessing you’re missing six months too, right?”

Dick turned ever so slightly, narrowing his eyes at Kid Flash. “How do you know about the memory gap?”

“It’s happened to all of us.” The third girl spoke, staying close to Kid Flash.

Miss Martian nodded. “I can help. We’re on a mission, your first mission with the team, actually, Robin, but… something went wrong. I’m not sure what. I can’t remember. But if you let me help, I can piece together our memories.

“So you want me to grant you access to my mind? No way. Not happening.” Dick protested, suspicion practically radiating from his body.

“I promise I won’t do anything besides restoring what was lost. Don’t you want to know how you got here? How we got here?”

Dick frowned. It was a reasonable argument. Besides, this was just the kind of thing that Slade would do to test his mind blocking abilities. Was that the purpose? To throw him into a situation where the only way out was to open up his mind to the Martian?

It was certainly a devious enough plan to be from Slade.

“Fine. But only the past six months,” he reluctantly agreed, doing his best to build up his mental defenses before the Martian went in.

~•~

“So, how was your first mission with the team?” Bruce asked later the morning as they sat around the breakfast table.

Dick hid his grin behind his mug of coffee. “It was… interesting. But I think I want to continue doing missions, if that’s alright with you.”

Interesting was certainly the best way to describe what had happened in that desert. Sure, things had gone far off course, but it had been fun.

Dick could almost imagine himself becoming friends with the members of the Team… his teammates now.

But no.

The plan came first.

_The plan always came first._


	15. Artemis is generally useless

Over the next few weeks, Dick began spending more and more of his free time at the mountain with the team, slowly melding himself into their ranks as a trusted compatriot.

It honestly was not that hard.

The team members trusted eachother, meaning that once he was in with two of them, he was in with the group.

M’gann and Wally, Kid Flash had revealed his civilian name within the first few days of meeting, were all too easy to ‘befriend’.

All it had taken was for him to pretend to enjoy M’gann’s burnt cookies for the Martian to deem him a friend, and it was even easier with Wally, a few shared jokes completely winning the speedster over.

Seriously, for being heroes, neither were suspicious at all.   
  
If Dick had not been using their naivety to his advantage, he would have been concerned. As it was, he found their clear lack of suspicion amusing.

They were like cute little puppies; trusting everyone and everything that seemed nice.

_How foolish._

~•~

“Hey, Alfred? Where’s Bruce?”

Alfred glanced over at Dick, lifting one eyebrow as he noted that the boy was dressed in his hero costume. “At work. Why? You know that you cannot patrol without him.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m just going to go hang out at the Mountain for a bit, if that’s okay. I’ll be back before dinner, unless we get a mission… not that there really have been any since the first one anyway. I tried messaging Bruce, but he has yet to respond.” Dick held up his phone, showing off the unread message.

“Alright, that’s fine. Master Bruce said that he would be busy with meetings all day anyway. Wayne Enterprises is having its annual board meeting, so I don’t imagine he’ll be home until late.”

Dick nodded, grinning at Alfred before walking off. He left through the Batcave exit, heading toward the Gotham City zeta tube.

As Dick stashed his motorcycle in its normal hiding place, he could not help but notice the off feeling in the air.

Something was wrong.

Eyes darting around the abandoned alleyway, he searched for… well, he did not know _what_ he was searching for. But there was definitely something different.

Something moved in a darkened corner, orange metal flashing for a brief moment before it disappeared behind a corner. Cautiously, Dick moved forward, hand on his belt, ready to pull out a weapon at any moment, knowing deep down that really, there was no need to be concerned.

There was only one person who it could be.

_Slade._

Rounding the corner, Dick could not stop the wide grin that spread across his lips as his eyes alighted on the figure of his mentor leaning casually against the wall of an adjoining building.

“You’re here… I… I can’t believe you’re actually here.” He mumbled, only briefly hesitating before practically throwing himself at the mercenary, wrapping his arms around Slade’s waist in a desperate embrace.

Slade simply chuckled, returning the embrace with one arm, the other moving up to ruffle his apprentice’s hair. “Of course I’m here. What did you think I was, a ghost?”

Dick rolled his eyes, pulling back to swat at Slade’s armoured chest. “Shut up. You know what I mean. I didn’t think we’d be able to meet up yet. You didn’t message about it.”

“Well, I wanted to surprise you. Keep you on your guard.” Slade placed both hands on Dick’s shoulders, pushing the boy back ever so slightly, his single eye roaming over him to check for any outstanding injuries. Once he was seemingly satisfied that Dick was in good condition, he released him with a soft huff. “They’ve certainly got you dressed up colorfully enough. You stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Oh, come on… It’s not that bad. They’re the colors from the circus. Helps keep me grounded and all that.”

Slade nodded approvingly. “Good. Staying grounded is good. But, as much as I am enjoying this little meetup, there are important matters to discuss. We need to move things forward.”

Dick frowned, brows creasing in confusion, concern creeping into his eyes behind his mask. “What? Why? Everything’s working well on my end.”

“Yes, well… I have it on good authority that Sportsmaster may have leaked the presence of a mole in the Team to Aqualad.”  
  
“I didn’t know Sportsmaster was part of the organization… besides, his daughter is part of the Team. It would be easy to pin things going wrong on her. That was the plan, right?”

“Yes… that was the plan. Still is the backup, actually. But I have organized a second option to further distract any possible attention from you. An option that will seem more feasible to the heroes, no doubt.” Slade turned, eyes narrowing as he looked down the alleyway. “Someone is coming.”  
  
Dick frowned, glancing back as well. He did not see anyone, but Slade was generally better at picking up on those kinds of things. “What about the information? I’m working on getting into the databases, the ones at the Mountain are much less guarded than those at the Batcave, but I need more time on it if you want everything.”

“I am aware of this. That is why the plan is changing. Get as much out as you can tonight. It doesn’t matter if you leave a slight trace; the diversion will cover it. Just don’t get caught.” Slade glanced down the alleyway again, sighing softly. “We’re out of time. I will contact you later. Just be on guard and stay alive.”

And with those words, Slade turned on his heel and quickly disappeared amongst the shadows, leaving Dick alone to ponder his thoughts. Rather unfortunately, his alone time did not last long, Artemis stepping into the alley by the zeta tube entrance.

So, like any sane person would do, Dick snuck toward her, staying silent until he was practically by her side before speaking up. “Artemis?”

“Robin! I… uh…” Was it just him, or was she acting extra shady? Probably had something to do with her going to school in Gotham City… or maybe the fact that she actually lived there and not with Green Arrow who was not actually her uncle.

 _Man_ , all these secrets were getting annoying. However, Artemis _was_ pretty fun to mess with, so Dick decided to see exactly how uncomfortable he could get her to be. “How random that you’re in Gotham City instead of Star City where your _uncle_ Green Arrow lives.”

Artemis looked thoroughly alarmed by the statement, and Dick had to fight the urge to smirk.

“I’m… uh… here to see my cousin. She was in the state spelling bee. Here. In Gotham. City.”

“C-O-O-L. Did she W-I-N?”

“N-O.”

“D-R-A-G.”

He could practically see her growing more annoyed by the second, even as his urge to laugh grew equally as strong. Sadly, Artemis was a killjoy and ended all the fun.

“Yeah, let’s just go to the cave.”

“Ladies first.”

“Your town. You go.”

Dick shrugged, stepping into the dilapidated phonebooth and closing the door.

- _Recognized Robin B07_ -

And just like that, he was inside the mountain. Except the mountain was on fire and everything was a mess.

_What fun._

Slade really did not know how to dial down the surprises.

- _Recognized Artemis B06_ -

Great. Just great. Of course he had to babysit the archer and fight off Slade’s surprise at the same time. Not like it could just be nice and simple. Noooo.

_Stupid Slade._

Dick ducked out of the way as a fireball was launched in his direction, eyes squinting to make out whatever it was attacking him. His birdarangs were bouncing off whatever it was with the distinct clang of metal striking metal.

Some kind of robot? That definitely sounded like something Slade would do.

Slade loved his robots.

“Who are we fighting?” Artemis asked, firing off arrows with equally no effect.

Dick flipped out of the way of another fireball, tossing more birdarangs at the oncoming attackers, two figures slowly appearing from the smoke. “Don’t know, but we’re sitting ducks by these tubes. To the exit.”

Together, they ran toward the nearest tunnel, only to be stopped as a wall of water swelled up to block their paths.

“Or not.” Dick grumbled, turning to run in the opposite direction. As it quickly turned out, they could not outrun the water, the wave swallowing both of them, dragging them back and slamming them into a wall before receding, granting a brief respite before another fireball came hurtling in their direction.

Dick and Artemis turned and ran, managing to make it into the mostly unused gym room, the doors closing behind them.

For something meant to divert the heroes, whatever Slade had set up was doing a great job of keeping Dick occupied too. At this rate he would be unable to do any serious hacking, especially if he failed to ditch Artemis.

They kept running, the fireballs following them until they reached the gym showers.

First things first, he needed to see how much time he had before the meddling heroes showed up.

Dick placed a finger to his ear, activating his coms. “Robin to Team. Come in. Aqualad?” Nothing there, so he switched channels. “Robin to Batcave override RG4. Keep calling Justice League. HOJ slash Watchtower. B01 priority red.” All he received was static in his ear.

_Perfect._

_No one was coming._

Doing hist best to act serious and yet worried, Dick began turning on the showers, the water helping to ease some of the overbearing heat from the fire. “Coms are down. Locked. At least the water’s helping,” he told Artemis, almost immediately regretting the words as the faucets burst off the wall and water rapidly filled the room. “Or not.”

This was not going to work if he had to continue fighting whatever it was chasing them.

Dick activated an explosive birdarang, placing it on the wall and moving back as it went off, the water carrying him and Artemis out of the room and into the adjoining hallway.

They were on their feet in an instant, racing toward the kitchen.

“We need to get lost.” Dick commented, glancing around for possible hiding spaces. Ideally, he needed somewhere where he could lose Artemis as well.

“The air vent!”

“Good. Go!”

While Artemis removed the vent cover, Dick activated his holo-glove, connecting to the panel beside the kitchen door. If he could just get into the mainframe…

“What are you doing?” Artemis asked, clearly confused as to why he was not following.

Dick groaned. Stupid Artemis. “Downloading cave blueprints… could come in handy…” It was an easy lie, one made even more believable by the fact that they could now hear metal footsteps approaching, forcing him to disconnect his glove and follow Artemis up into the vent.

They were barely seconds away from being too late, fire flaring up behind them right as they moved into a side shoot.

A quick glance down at his glove made Dick grin.

_He was connected._

Now all he needed to do was find enough free time to begin the hacking process.

Unfortunately, however, that did not seem to be an option at the moment, Artemis relying on him to guide them both through the vents.

Good thing he had actually memorized the entire cave layout weeks prior.

He guided them out into the boiler room where they successfully avoided whoever was tossing fire and then escaped into another access tunnel.

This was not going to work if the enemies could track them.

Crouching low, Dick plugged his glove into a control panel.

“What are you doing?”

Ugh. Artemis.

“Blocking out the heat and motion sensors so they can’t track us.” Dick mumbled, fingers flying over the holo-keyboard. That was at least part of what he was doing. Artemis did not need to know about him also beginning the hacking process, and he knew for a fact that she was not tech savvy enough to know what he was actually doing.

Still, Artemis leaned closer, looking at his screen expectantly. “Do you even know what’s attacking us?”

Dick fought the urge to groan. Why, oh why, was she the one that he got stuck with? “No. But I can find out,” he mumbled, pulling up a new tab and starting to type, leaving his program to run in the background, hopefully gathering information.

It only took a few moments for him to find the security footage, not that there was much to see. All of them had been knocked out with water mere moments into the attack.

“That’s it. All four are dead.” Dick commented, deliberately keeping his voice deadpan.

Artemis looked horrified, and he could not help but snicker softly. “Not them. The cameras. I’m sure the others are fine.”

There was no way that Slade would have issued killing orders. Killing the others was not on the agenda, at least not yet. It could jeopardize the plan to raise any further alarms, which one of their deaths surely would do.

“Just let me find the fastest way to the hanger.” Dick told her, pulling up his other screen to check on the progress of his program.

Not even a quarter of the way done.

_Dang it._

He needed more time.

With that in mind, Dick left his screen up as he led Artemis toward the library, pretending to use it for directions while his program continued to run, doing his best to block out the hero’s complaints about not having powers.

“There’s a secret passageway behind one of the bookshelves.”

“Cliché much?”

“You should see the Batcave.” Dick informed her dryly, although he too could not help but wonder why heroes continued to use such outdated hiding spots. It was beyond ridiculous.

They ducked behind a bookshelf as the sound of footsteps approached, Dick pulling out birdarangs.

The footsteps moved closer as a robotic voice spoke. “Artemis. Robin.”

_Totally not Red Tornado._

Red Tornado would never be stupid enough to approach that openly during a crisis like this.

“It’s Red Tornado!”

…unfortunately, Artemis fell for the idiotic trap like the idiot she was, leaving Dick little choice but to reveal himself and rescue her.

_Stupid hero._

“Yes on the red, no on the tornado,” he grumbled, yanking Artemis under a table and out of the way.

Together, they stood and began running again, dodging out of the way of a second red robot, this one distinctly female and clearly not too pleased considering the fact that she began lobbing more fireballs at them.

“Who… what are they?” Artemis asked, making Dick roll his eyes behind his mask. Maybe if she would just stop asking stupid questions and started being useful, they could get out of this mess.

No wonder Sportsmaster did not want her. She was clearly several knives short of a good collection. Not the right saying, but it fit.

Dick liked knives.

Thus far, he definitely did not like Artemis.

The bookshelves began toppling over like dominoes, and Dick shook his head, concentrating in on the ones in front of him… _there_. He pulled back the correct book, opening up the secret entrance, quickly slipping through followed by Artemis as a bookshelf slammed down on where they had been standing.

“Did you know Tornado had… siblings?” Artemis asked as they ran, the question resounding with pure stupidity.

Of _course_ Dick had not known. If he had, he would have told her the first five times she had asked about who was attacking them. Biting back the harsh words, Dick simply shook his head and continued running. “No.”

He was about to turn a corner when Artemis grabbed his arm. “So now what? Red Tornado is one of the powerhouses of the League. How are we supposed to take down two of him?”

“They do seem pretty user unfriendly.” Dick commented, finding at least some relief in her immediate annoyance.

_Good._

She deserved to be annoyed for how obnoxious she was being.

“Don’t _joke_.” Artemis practically spat, seeming about to say more when a blaring robotic voice spoke, announcing that they had ten minutes time to turn themselves in or else the other team members would die.

What a very Slade thing to announce.

As the countdown started, Dick guided them through the tunnels toward the hanger. “We can access it from here,” he told Artemis, gesturing toward an exit just as a massive wave closed it off. “Or not.”

“Would you please stop saying that!” Artemis snapped.

Maybe she was not as bad after all… it was fun to get on her nerves at the very least. That, and at least while he was with her and the program was running, he had a working alibi in case questions were asked.

The water swept them up again, but this time Dick was prepared, pulling a mouthpiece that would allow him to breathe from his belt. He took in a deep breath before passing it to Artemis. After all, it would not do to let her drown just yet.

She had only taken a few breaths before the robot with water control grabbed her by the ankle and dragged her back, leaving Dick once again in charge of single handily saving them both.

They swam out into the hanger and Dick took stock of the situation, Superboy and Wally were both incased in what might have been cement while Aqualad and M’gann were trapped in a cage of fire.

It was pretty smart, if he was being honest, keeping Aqualad weakened and away from the water while at the same time taking advantage of one of M’gann’s few weaknesses as a Martian.

Slade had clearly done his research when picking the abilities for these bots.

The fight was brief, barely even a fight at all, before him and Artemis retreated back into the vents to strategize.

“What do we do now?”

“We save them. That’s how it works.” _Duh_. Artemis was supposed to be the actual hero, right? Then why was she acting like a whiney child? Slade would never have put up with this. Hell, neither would Batman for that matter.

Artemis shook her head, glaring down at her hands. “Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to work, but those robots already took out our four _superpowered_ friends.”

“You seem distraught.”

“Distraught? M’gann is dying. We have no powers, and I’m down to my last arrow. Of course I’m distraught.”

This girl was getting on his last nerves. Did she not even _want_ to try saving her friends?

“Well, get _traught_ or get _dead_.” Dick snapped, a few sentences away from being down with it all and just knocking Artemis out altogether. He could probably work out some other kind of alibi if need be.

She was just so _annoying_.

“How can you be so calm?”

“Practice. I’ve been doing this since I was te-I’ve been doing this for a long time.” Dick gritted out, inwardly cursing himself. He had only been training with Batman for around a year. No one knew that he had had more training. It was ridiculous that he had almost let her irritate him into letting loose his secret.

“What good is that now? What chance do we have against unrelenting machines?”

Dick blinked. Then he blinked again, staring at Artemis in pure wonder.

Finally, _finally_ , she had said something useful.

After a quick glance down at his holo-glove to check the progress, a grin spread across Dick’s lips. “ _Duh_. They’re machines. And one electromagnetic pulse will shut down any machine within range.”

And with that, the plan was formed.

Everything was going smoothly with it too, until their distraction failed and Dick found himself incased in water, the air slowly leaving his lungs until darkness fully overcame him and his body went limp.

When he next opened his eyes, Artemis was leaning over him.

_Huh._

Maybe she was not as useless as he had thought. “Way to get traught,” he coughed out, managing a weak, but genuine, smile.

Aqualad and M’gann turned out to be fine, however freeing Superboy and Wally turned out to be a bigger issue as none of the machines were working due to the pulse. Still, all seemed to be going fine, until Red Tornado showed up.

Of course, that was when the pulse started wearing off.

And, of course, he just _had_ to turn bad and suck all of the air out of the room.

Which, of course, meant that Dick got knocked out for the second time that day.

However, this time, as his eyes fluttered closed, Dick could not help but smile. Red Tornado was the perfect set up. Slade’s plan had worked perfectly.

_The program had worked._


	16. Dick is not quite sneaky enough

“Are we really going to keep that?” Wally asked, clearly more than a little bit concerned over the giant wolf that was currently sprawled out on the kitchen floor.

Superboy glowered at him, moving to stand protectively over the animal. “Of course we’re going to keep _him_. Wolf is here to stay.”

“Fine, fine… but can we at least name him something other than wolf?”

Wolf, the giant wolf, let out a low growl, the sound more than enough to shut up the speedster who raised his hands in defeat.

“Okay… Wolf it is.”

Dick snickered, rolling his eyes at the conversation. “Great. So we’ve got a wolf now. Wonderful. But can we _please_ further discuss this mole thing? Clearly keeping secrets does not work for the wellbeing of this team. Is there a way to know for sure that it was Red Tornado?”

They had just returned from a mission with Captain Marvel (Shazam) and it had nearly been a disaster. Heavy on the dis. And, while Aqualad had briefly explained his reasoning for not letting the rest of the team in on the fact that they might have a mole amongst them, Dick saw no harm in bringing up the discussion once more.

Bringing it up himself would further prove his ‘innocence’, as no one would suspect the person who seemingly was trying to sort everything out. Sometimes, Dick concerned himself with how great of a liar he had become.

But at least his lies had a purpose.

He was serving justice, even if it might not feel like it at times.

“Unfortunately, no. At least, not until Red Tornado has been found. For now, we are working under the assumption that something in his programing led to a betrayal.” Aqualad sighed, looking rather defeated over the whole thing.

Dick bit back a grin.

 _Perfect_.

“What about the Red siblings? They can’t have only come here to take us out.”

Wally frowned, setting down the bag of chips that he had been munching on. “Wait… you think that they wanted information?”

Aqualad nodded somberly. “That would make sense. The computers here are connected to the Justice League databases, so it wouldn’t be unreasonable to at least check for security breaches. Robin, is it possible to see if any information was stolen during the attack?”

“I should be able to… might take a bit of digging though. I’ll also have to lower some of our security walls to properly check though… if anyone is searching, they’ll be able to find us here.”

“Do it. The rest of us can patrol the area while you’re looking.”

Dick grinned; darkness hidden behind the mirth in his gaze. Everything was just _perfect_. “Yup. I’m on it.” They trusted him to take care of a problem he himself had caused.

_Idiots._

As the rest of the team spread out to patrol around the Mountain, Dick plugged his glove into the main computer, booting up the program that he had run during the attack.

Specially coded by him and Slade, the program had created an easy back way into the system. And it left virtually no trace. Dick’s fingers flew over the keyboard, removing any signs of the program’s invasion. It was easy to hide.

For a brief moment, Dick dropped all the firewalls keeping the system secure, activating the secondary part of the program.

_There._

The signal had been received. Slade now had access to the Justice League computer systems.

Dick rebooted the system, double and triple checking that his trail had been completely swept clean. It was perfect. But of course, it would be. He had full faith in Slade’s plans.

He continued to type, coding in a second program, one that bore the distinct signature of Red Tornado; a signature that he had memorized years ago when training with Slade.

_The decoy was in place._

“There… all done.” Dick grinned down at his screen, pleased with how nicely everything had worked out. He reached up, tapping the communicator in his ear. “Hey guys? Everything good out there? I’m finished… and I found something.”

It only took a few minutes for the team to gather in the main room, all looking eager and ready for an update on the situation.

“Okay, so first of all, it was not that bad. They clearly planned to have more time in the cave to get into our systems, which Artemis thwarted when she knocked them out.” Dick nodded toward the archer with a grin, making her smile back.

_Easy._

_So, so easy._

Dick glanced around at the others before continuing on. “I found a virus that was clearly designed to get in and steal all our information. However, in order to get that information, they would have needed to connect back to the computer, something that they were unable to do which means that nothing was lost. I did remove the virus though and patch the system.”

Unless someone knew what they were looking for, it really did appear as if the Reds had implanted a virus meant to extract data which Dick had successfully patched.

“Good work, Robin. That was very quick thinking on your part.” Aqualad praised, patting Dick on the back in a congratulatory manner.

Wally stepped over, slinging an arm over Dick’s shoulder. “Great job. Now can we please do something fun? It’s already pretty late and I have school tomorrow. Let’s watch a movie.”

“Oh! I can make popcorn! And cookies!” M’gann cheered, nodding enthusiastically while starting to tug Superboy toward the kitchen, her enthusiasm making the generally stoic teen break into a smile.

“I guess a movie wouldn’t be awful.”

Artemis followed M’gann and Superboy into the kitchen, Wally trailing behind her, probably planning on stealing most of the already made cookies so M’gann would have to make more.

With a soft sigh, Dick turned to look at Aqualad. “You know, if we don’t try to select a movie first it’ll just end up being another rom-com. And we both know how bad the last one was.”

“Right. Let’s hurry.”

Aqualad and Dick shared a traumatized look before following the others, settling in for a long night of fun and team bonding. And, for the first time in a while, Dick did his best to relax and be himself. He had completed his main mission at the Mountain.

All that remained was acquiring the information from the Batcave.

~•~

Bruce had only just arrived at the Batcave when the notification appeared on his screen.

Someone had attempted, and succeeded, to hack the system. Changes had been made, changes that seemed… unnecessary.

Why would an attacker create a virus only to patch it within the next few minutes?

It made no sense.

And as Bruce pulled up the security camera feed, his confusion only grew.

He watched the footage carefully, watched it over and over again until he finally turned off the computer.

Leaning back in his chair, Bruce frowned.

It was all too clear what had happened.

_Robin._

_Dick._

His son had done _something_ to the programing. Why, Bruce was unsure. But he did know one thing. Whatever the reason, he would find out.

Because there had to be a good reason behind Dick’s actions.

There just _had_ to be.


	17. No one can out paranoia the Bat

“Slade?”

“I’m here, apprentice.” The villain stepped out from the shadows of the alleyway, gesturing for Dick to follow him.

While they had only met up a few times since Slade had first contacted him there, it had become the perfect meeting spot as the zeta tube entrance was in one of the worst parts of the city with numerous dark alleyways nearby to hide out in.

They walked in silence for a few long minutes, moving out of earshot from the entrance before Slade finally turned to look at him.

“I have been sifting through the League’s databases, but they lack the key information which we seek. Information that I am sure is only stored in the Batcave. How is the progress on your end? Have you gotten in?”

Dick let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head. “No, I haven’t been able to. Batman is keeping me busy. He enrolled me in _school_. _School_ , Slade. I’ve never been to school before. It’s… it’s frustrating, but I think it’s mainly so that I can keep an eye on Artemis. He’s always in the Batcave while I’m there too.”

Ever since he had framed Tornado as the mole, Bruce had been acting off. If Dick did not know better, then he would have said Bruce knew. But there was no way he could know what Dick had done.

_It was impossible._

He had made sure to leave no trace, and Slade had made sure to completely dispose of Red Tornado and the others, meaning that there was no possible evidence that Bruce could have against him.   
  
_Right?_

Shaking his head with another frustrated sigh, Dick did his best to push the thoughts away. He could not risk second thinking himself. It would do no good to dwell on maybes.

“So, what you’re saying is that you need another distraction?”

“I’m sorry, master. I really have tried to access it. But the time that it would take to get into those computers… well… someone is always there, always watching.”

Slade nodded thoughtfully. “Alright then. Something will be arranged. Be ready to act.”

“I’m always ready to act. You trained me, after all.”

~•~

Dick frowned down at the box he was helping Aqualad carry, wondering why on earth becoming part of the Team also turned into putting away groceries. He did not even get to eat the food, seeing as how he did not live there and ate his meals at Wayne Manor. 

It was ridiculous.

What made it even more ridiculous however, was the fact that the Team seemed to be gaining a new member.

Zatanna Zatara, daughter of Zatara who was a member of the Justice.

A magician.

 _Just what he needed_.

Now Dick would have to be even more careful around the team. He had seen Zatanna in action, had seen her use spells to force the truth out of villains. There was no way that he could risk having that power used on him.

So, of course, he was forced to go the overly friendly and possibly flirty route. It made him feel stupid and uncomfortable, and he hated every second of it. Sure, Zatanna seemed like a genuinely nice person, and she did have a sense of humor, but Dick was far too on edge to actually try to get to know the girl.

“We can set it down here, Robin.”

“What? Oh… right. The box. Sorry. Kinda zoned out for a sec there.” Dick forced a laugh, grinning over at the Atlantian as he helped him slowly lower the box to the ground.

“Are you alright, my friend? You seem unusually out of it today.” Aqualad asked, reaching over to place a hand on Dick’s shoulder, the gesture which was probably meant to be comforting only coming across as patronizing to Dick’s already straining mind.

He was about to shrug the hand away when a loud crash echoed through the room. Turning to look, Dick’s eyes widened. Batman, Red Tornado, and Zatara were all gone. It was as if they had all just vanished into thin air.

Hiding his growing grin behind his hand, Dick fought the urge to laugh.

Slade really had gone all out this time.

Now all he needed to do was get to the Batcave and complete his part.

~•~

It had not been hard to convince the others of his need to return to Gotham for a short period of time. They trusted him when he said that he might be able to find answers for what had happened in Batman’s databases.

 _The fools_.

It did almost make Dick feel bad… almost. But he was above such simple things as remorse at this point. He was just doing what he needed to do, and if, when the time came, they did not understand that, well… Dick was not responsible for their feelings.

Or at least, that is what he told himself to lessen the growing knot of guilt rising in his stomach.

Alfred was gone, like all the other adults on the planet, leaving the manor feeling strangely cold and empty. Dick hated it.

“It’s temporary… a necessary evil.” He mumbled under his breath as he sat down in front of the computer and got to work.

Dick knew better than to even try repeating what he had done at the Mountain here. Batman would notice the program easily, and that would just make him go through all the other systems, inevitably leading to the other one being found.

No, this mission required less subtlety. It did not matter how he got in, just so long as he was able to properly cover his steps when getting back out.

And with that thought in mind, Dick got to work.

It was nearly two hours later by the time he was finally done, and the download was complete. Two hours of fighting firewalls and digging through layers upon layers of information. But, _finally_ , he had all that he needed.

Dick stared down at the small flash drive in the palm of his hand, rolling it around between his fingers before he tucked it into his belt, hidden securely amongst four of its brethren

He had gotten lucky with this one. Almost _too_ lucky. Or maybe Batman was really just that predictable. The guy really was an information hoarder. He had stuff on everyone… and that would be his downfall.

Carefully setting the chair back to how it had been before he entered, Dick returned to the cave, arriving just as the other Team members had finished communicating with the adults through Captain Marvel (Shazam).

And, just like that, Dick and the Team were heading off into battle to reconnect their world’s reality.

~•~

Bruce frowned as he helped Dick up to his room, eyes narrowing in concern. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright? According to the others, you took a pretty hard blast of magic.”

“I’m fine… really… just feeling tired.” Dick mumbled, giving him a weak smile.   
  
He was not buying it. The boy looked dead on his feet.

“Come on then… let’s get you to bed.”

Bruce was practically supporting Dick’s full weight by the time they made it to the younger male’s room, and he could carefully ease him down onto the bed.

He watched as Dick slipped off his mask and rubbed sleepily at his eyes before reaching up and grabbing a pillow.

“How are you feeling… mentally? With everyone disappearing, I… I was worried that it might bring back unpleasant memories,” he spoke softly, reaching over to gently brush down Dick’s messy mop of raven black hair.

Dick only yawned, pressing his face further into the pillow. “Mmm… talk later… sleep now.”

“Alright… sleep well.” Bruce laughed softly, shaking his head in fond amusement as the boy quickly drifted off to sleep. He leaned over and pulled the blankets up over his son, making sure that he was comfortably situated before leaving the room and closing the door.

It must have been hard, figuring out what to do in such a dire situation, but Bruce was proud of what Dick and his friends had been able to accomplish. They had done well.

Things seemed to be going smoothly for both Dick and the Team, and Bruce could not have been happier for his adopted son. Or at least… he was until he re-entered the Batcave and noticed that the keyboard had been moved ever so slightly closer to the edge of his desk.

Someone else had used the computer.

It had probably just been Dick trying to find information, he had told Bruce that much on the way back, but something urged him to look closer, to look deeper.

Face drawing into a scowl, Bruce pulled up the footage for his backup emergency cameras, ones that ran on a completely separate system from the main computer.

After watching the footage, his scowl only deepened.

He needed to have words with his son.


	18. Bruce sucks at peaceful confrontation

A loud yawn pushed past his lips as Dick stumbled out of his room, still half asleep and out of it from the night before. The delicious scent of freshly made pancakes wafted from the kitchen, and he headed in that direction, stomach rumbling hungrily.

Groggily, Dick remembered that he had skipped most of the meals the day before. Oh well. All the more reason to gorge himself on pancakes now. Alfred made the best pancakes.

He slumped into his seat at the table, only vaguely aware that something felt off about this situation. But he had more important things to worry about, namely the plate of steaming deliciousness that had just been set down in front of him.

“Thanks, Alfred,” he mumbled, fighting back another yawn as he began drizzling syrup onto his plate.

“Alfred has the day off, actually.”

Dick blinked, brows furrowing in confusion as he rubbed at his eyes before blinking up at the person standing next to him. Definitely not Alfred.

Why was Bruce making him pancakes?

“Oh… I didn’t know he had days off.” Alfred was always around doing things. He even lived in the house. Dick honestly was not sure if he had ever seen the butler doing something that was not work related, and he had lived there for nearly a year at this point.

Bruce simply chuckled and shook his head, reaching down to comb his fingers through Dick’s hair in a futile attempt to tame the boy’s bedhead. “Of course he has days off. He just doesn’t normally take them. I insisted today, however. I was thinking that we could spend the day together.”

“Spend the day together? Is that code for going on a mission or something?”

“No. No missions, no costumes. I just figured we could use some bonding time after yesterday.”

“Right… okay. Do you have anything planned for this day of bonding?” Dick could not help but feel suspicious. It was awfully convenient for Bruce to want to spend time with him right after he had hacked into his computer system. But then again, maybe Bruce really was more thoughtful than Dick had first pegged him as and he really did just want to bond with his ‘son’. He would just have to let things play out.

“I’ll let you know once you’ve eaten your breakfast and gotten dressed.”

“So… in other words… you don’t have anything planned.”

Bruce huffed, shaking his head as he slipped into his normal seat at the head of the table, dishing himself up some pancakes. “Hush. I have things planned.”

Dick fought back a snicker. “Uh-huh. Suuuure you do.”

“I can always take the pancakes away, Dick.”

He gasped, tugging the plate closer to himself to protect it as he bit into his first pancake. “Nebermignd… u’be go’a pwan.” Dick reassured him, mouth full of food.

The disgusted look Bruce gave him was enough to make him start laughing which quickly turned into choking which in turn led to him gulping down orange juice.

Bruce made no move to help, simply lifting one eyebrow at him. “Are you alright?”

“Fine.” Dick huffed, fighting down the urge to pout as he once again began eating, practically inhaling the pancakes. While they were not as good as Alfred’s, they were still quite delicious, especially when drowned in maple syrup.

They finished the meal in relative silence, Dick eating everything on his plate as well as the few remaining on a platter in the center of the table. Once they were all gone, he sat back with a contented sigh, hand rubbing his now full stomach.

“You know, I would never have been able to guess that _the_ Batman knows how to cook.”

“Everyone should know how to cook at least a few things. It’s part of any basic training. After all, you can’t fight if you can’t properly take care of yourself.”  
  
“Okay then… why haven’t you made me learn how to cook then?”

“If you want to learn, all you have to do is ask. Alfred is an excellent teacher.” Bruce began gathering up the dirty plates and cutlery, stacking them neatly in front of himself. “Now, you should go get dressed and ready. I should be finished cleaning up by the time you’re done.”

Dick rolled his eyes, pushing back his chair and standing up. “Right… for this mystery day of bonding which you don’t want to tell me anything about.”

~•~

As it turned out, Bruce’s ingenious idea for a ‘father-son bonding day’ was for them to go see a movie.

The movie was horrible.

So horrible in fact that the only reason Dick was able to sit through it without wanting to die was because Bruce clearly hated it as well and his reaction was priceless. Honestly, Dick was considering pretending that he enjoyed the movie for the soul purpose of making Bruce watch more of its kind as a form of torture.

It was hilarious to see the famous Bruce Wayne, _Batman_ , brought nearly to tears by a dreadful movie clearly intended for a much younger audience.

Why Bruce thought that watching something clearly meant for kids under the age of ten was a worthwhile thing to do, Dick would never know. The man was so clearly bad with children it made Dick feel almost sorry for him.

_Almost._

He would never feel truly sorry for the man that had killed his parents.

As they exited the theater, Dick could not help but grin as he looked up at Bruce, amusement shining in his eyes. “So… can we watch the sequel when it comes out?”

“No. Never again. I… Alfred said the reviews looked good… and… and it was kid friendly, and…” Bruce clearly was out of his element.

“I’m just teasing. Just so you know though, I’m not a child, and I do not need to be sheltered. I’ve seen things far worse than most adults have in their lifetimes. If you want to watch a movie together, just try to pick something that you think looks interesting next time.” Dick looked away, wondering where on earth those words had come from.

Next time?

There would not be a next time. The mission was quickly coming to a close. In fact, this was probably one of the last times he was going to be conversing with Bruce in friendly terms.

Bruce sighed, drawing Dick out of his thoughts. “Well, how would you feel about grabbing some ice cream before we head back? There’s a good place near here. It’s been around for years, actually. My parents used to take me there.”

“Ice cream sounds nice.”

Dick fell silent again as he trailed after Bruce, thoughts swirling incessantly in his head. Bruce had only mentioned his parents a few times, and never in such casual conversation. It was strange. Everything about this situation was strange. He did not trust it.

He did not trust it at all.

Bruce had to be up to something, and whatever it was, Dick was not falling for it.

Playing it cool for the rest of their outing was hard, especially when the ice cream turned out to be delicious and Bruce let Dick eat most of his as well as his own. The suspicion was turning into a hard knot in the pit of his stomach, ready to explode into panic at a moment’s notice.

There was no way that Bruce was being this nice for no reason. He wanted something. Dick was sure of it.

No one was ever nice for no reason, and even as Dick wished, hoped, that maybe for once, the nice actions could just simply be that, be _nice_ , deep down, he knew better.

Still, he hoped.

And that hope was crushed as soon as they returned the manor and Bruce turned to look at him, uttering the four words that no one ever wanted to hear, no matter the situation.

“We need to talk.”

He frowned, doing his best not to go instantly on the defensive. “We have been talking.”

“I mean a serious talk. Dick, what have you been doing?”

“Doing with what?”

“Don’t play games with me. You can’t expect to hack into my computer systems without me finding out about it. I’m Batman. I have backup cameras _for_ my backup cameras. The information that you accessed is _sensitive_. There’s a reason only me and Alfred have access to it.”

Bruce’s nice tone was gone, replaced by a cold sternness that only made the rising panic worse. Dick had to fix this. He had to somehow talk his way out of this situation. He was not ready to face Batman yet. He had not planned for this.

 _Slade had not planned for this_.

Dick took in a slow breath, doing his best to calm his steadily increasing heartrate. He just needed to come up with a good lie. One that Bruce would buy. He could do this. After all, Bruce had bought the lie that had gotten him into this situation. He could do it again. “I needed to see if you had any information on what was happening. You and the entire League were gone, along with every adult in the world. I just thought that seeing as how you collect information on everything, you might have had some on what was happening.”  
  
“And that meant you needed to go through the identity database?” Bruce asked, tone growing even colder.

_He was not buying it._

“Well, when I couldn’t find any information on what was happening, I thought we might need backup, so I looked for other heroes under the age of eighteen.”

Bruce scowled, taking a step closer to Dick. “Don’t lie to me. You downloaded that information. Why?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dick gritted his teeth, fighting to stay calm. This was not how things were supposed to go. This had not been part of the plan. There was no script for this.

The rising panic was making it harder to lie smoothly. Bruce was moving further from doting parent with every passing second, and Dick did not understand why that seemed to hurt so much. He understood that Bruce had only taken him out in order to make him more vulnerable for this interrogation. It was an easy tactic. One that Dick should have foreseen. He had grown weak. He had hoped that maybe, just maybe, Bruce actually did care. But this made it all to clear; no one cared, or at least, no one except Slade.

And he had failed Slade.

He had messed up the plan.

Bruce, no, Batman now, took another step forward, all too conveniently blocking the exit. “Dick, I need you to tell me what is going on. You did something with the computers at the Mountain too. Is someone blackmailing you? Talk to me.”

_It was too much._

This was not part of the plan, and Dick already knew that he could not lie his way out of this situation.

There was only one possible course of action.

He slumped in on himself, shoulders beginning to tremble.

Batman frowned, closing the distance between them and placing a firm hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Dick? What’s wrong? How can I help?”

Body continuing to shake, Dick looked up, his brilliant blue eyes glinting darkly. His body shook, but not with tears or fear, no, Dick was laughing. A panicked and slightly crazed cackle slipped past his lips, soft at first, but growing gradually louder as Batman stepped back, clearly confused.

Laugh growing more and more eerie and desperate by the second, Dick attacked.


	19. Dick does not feel very traught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get kinda dark at the end of this chapter. If self-harm is a trigger for you, you have been warned. It doesn’t get too serious, and is kind of an important part, but I just figured I’d warn any more sensitive readers. So… if it’s an issue for you, stop reading at “If he could not win, there was only one other option.”

This was not how things were supposed to go. He was supposed to have time to plan everything out, was supposed to be able to prepare.

Slade had made the plan, and Dick had trusted it wholeheartedly. This was not Slade’s fault. No, this was Dick’s, and he could already imagine the world of pain that he would be in when Slade found out about his failure.

But maybe… maybe Slade did not need to know. He just had to take out Batman now… yes. That could work. At least, it could work if Batman stopped dodging away from his hits.

“Stay still, damn it!” Dick hissed, heartrate still rising as he fought down the oncoming panic. He could do this. Anything to keep Slade from getting upset.

“Dick, I need you to calm down, okay? You can tell me what’s going on. I’m here to help you.” Batman’s tone was too calm. Too patronizing.

Dick could not stand it.

“Shut up! I don’t need _your_ help! I don’t need anything from you.” He gritted his teeth together, launching a roundhouse kick at Batman’s head, only to be thrown off balance as the other male sidestepped out of the way.

_Damn it._

He could not focus, could not seem to be able to breathe normally.

The plan.

This was not part of the plan.

_Slade would be angry._

“Fight me already!”

“I am not going to fight you, Dick. Come on, we can talk about this. I don’t want to hurt you.”

So that was it, huh? The almighty Batman was scared of hurting a child? He was holding back, and Dick would not, could not, accept that.

Taking in a shaky breath, Dick shifted his fighting stance, eyes narrowing at his target, pure hatred radiating from him in waves, the tension almost suffocating. A bitter laugh fell from his lips, the sound cold enough to make Batman pause his movements.

“You don’t want to hurt me? That’s funny, coming from _you_. Did you really think that I had forgotten? Did you really think that I fell for this nice act that you’re pulling? You’re even more of an idiot than I thought you were.”

“Richard, stop this. Clearly there has been some kind of misunderstanding. You’re going to hurt yourself if you continue behaving in this manner.” Bruce had the nerve to sound _concerned_. As if Dick would fall for his nice act again.

_Stupid._

Dick knew better than to fall for niceties. They were all lies. No one was ever truly nice. Slade had taught him that long ago. Friendship was a lie. Kindness was a lie. All that mattered was family, and, thanks to _Batman_ , Dick’s family was gone.

“Like you’d care if I hurt myself, you bastard. Now shut up and let me kill you.” His hand moved into the pocket of his pants, withdrawing a switchblade knife. This fight would have been better with actual weapons, but Dick would do the best that he could with what he had.

He had to win.

_Slade would be angry if he lost._

With that thought in mind, Dick lunged forward again, concentrating on switching his fighting style to how it was before he trained with Batman. He had the advantage here. He knew Batman’s fighting style, had analyzed it carefully for years with Slade even before Batman had trained him, but Batman? Batman had no way of knowing all that Dick could do.

Finally, Dick no longer had to hold back.

He sliced with his knife, the blade cutting across Batman’s cheek before the older male could dodge again, and Dick grinned, pleased to have gotten the first blood. But it was not good enough.

Batman was still holding back.

“Come on. Fight me!” Dick snarled, anger pulsing through his body, melding with the panic and making his thoughts muddied. He knew that he needed to clear his mind, knew that he needed to focus.

But… the plan had failed.

He had failed.

_Slade would be angry._

Fear. Was that what this feeling was? No… worse than just simple fear. Dick was terrified of failing his master, terrified of what would happen if he failed to succeed.

He could remember all too well what happened when he failed to complete missions. But Slade was justified in hurting him. After all, his master wanted to make him better, wanted to help him achieve his goals. Not like _Batman_.

No.

The hero had killed Dick’s parents without provocation. The hero had ruined his life, and Dick would make him pay. He could not fail.

 _Slade would be angry if he failed_.

“Richard, put the knife down.” Batman chided, still sounding incredibly patronizing. His tone alone was enough to kick Dick into a higher gear, his attacks gaining speed and momentum, spurred on by the rising hatred and frustration.

Dick grabbed a vase off one of the main side tables that adorned the walls of Wayne Manor, tossing it at Batman. “Shut up. Just… just shut up and fight back! I can’t… I can’t kill you if you don’t fight back!”

“You aren’t going to kill me, Dick. You need to calm down.” Batman dodged the vase, only to be met with a knife in his face. He grabbed Dick’s arm, twisting his hand until he was forced to drop the knife. Dick let the knife fall, using the other male’s grip to leverage himself up, legs locking around Batman’s neck as he threw his body momentum forward, bringing them both to the ground. It was a move that he had perfected while training with Slade.

_Could not let Slade down._

Flipping away, Dick grabbed the next nearest object; a decorative sword. He grinned. Learning how to wield a sword was one of the first things that Slade had taught him.

“You so sure about that, Bats? Because I think I have the upper hand here.” Dick swung the weapon once experimentally before once again launching himself at Batman.

This time however, things were different.

Batman was fighting back.

Even without a weapon, Batman was a formidable opponent, dodging Dick’s sword attacks with uncanny speed.

“I really don’t want to hurt you, Dick…”

The words only made Dick scowl, slicing down with his blade. Batman lifted his hand, catching the blade in his hand. Of course the stupid thing was not sharp enough to do actual damage.

_Stupid._

_He was so stupid._

_He had failed_.

_Slade would be angry._

Dick released the blade, ducking under Batman’s arm and aiming a punch at the hero’s chest. It should have landed, but Batman had fast reflexes and reaction timing, the sword landing with a clatter on the ground as he grabbed Dick’s arm, twisting it behind the boy’s back to restrain him.

“Dick, take a deep breath, okay? You’re starting to hyperventilate.”

“L-Let go of me!” He snapped back, breathing growing even more unsteady as he struggled in Batman’s grasp, twisting against his hold and successfully managing to dislocate his shoulder. Jerking himself away, Dick snatched up the knife from where it had fallen on the floor.

_Not good._

He was out of practice, his body still weakened from the injuries that had first brought him to Batman’s attention. The years of training with Slade could only do so much for him in a fight if he was not at full strength.

 _The plan was to wait longer_.

Dick could feel the panic rising up his throat as he stumbled back, unable to steady his breathing, his dislocated shoulder leaving his right arm hanging limply by his side. He was not strong enough.

_There was no way to win._

_Slade would be so, so, so angry._

_He had failed._

Batman had not even come at him with his full strength, and still, Dick had failed.

 _Pathetic_.

As if of its own accord, his good arm started to rise, the knife clutched so tightly in his hand that his knuckles had turned white.

If he could not win, there was only one other option. Dick could not allow himself to be taken alive. Slade had drilled that into his head from the very beginning. It was simple, really. So simple in fact, that Dick could not help but laugh at the shocked and horrified expression taking over Batman’s face as he positioned the knife right above his heart.

 _Slade had showed him how to end it quickly_.

“Dick, don’t. We can talk about this. Just put the knife down, okay? We can work this out. I promise I’m not angry, I just want to know what’s going on.” Batman took a step forward, hands outstretched in a clearly placating manner.

Dick scoffed. “Yeah, right. So you can kill me later and have the joy of finishing off my entire family? Not likely.” He could feel his chest heaving, black spots clouding his vision even as he pressed the knife down, through his shirt and against his skin, feeling the sting as it drew blood.

_What a horrible time to have a panic attack._

“What are you talking about? I never even met your family.” Batman protested, confusion so seemingly genuine that Dick might have bought it if he did not know better.

Yeah… no.

Dick was not about to fall for any of that hero idiocy. He knew better.

 _Slade had taught him better_.

Hands shaking, Dick plunged the knife into his chest.

_No!_

His hands were shaking too much. The knife slipped down as he pressed it into his own skin. He had missed.

_Pathetic._

Yanking the knife out, Dick prepared to stab himself again. He needed to end it. He _had_ to end it, and he would have done it too, had something hard not hit the back of his head with a surprising amount of force, the blade dropping from his hand as his body slumped forward.

For a brief moment, confusion overtook the panic as he saw Alfred standing above him, a heavy looking rolling pin held in his hand. The moment was gone all too quickly, however, and, as darkness spread across his vision, so too did fear once again fill his mind.

As he slipped under, Dick had only one final, terrifying, thought.

_Slade was going to be furious._

_It would be better to have died._


	20. Shattered reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning still applies, although it’s more so just thoughts in this chapter.

Dick jolted up, a scream echoing from his lips as he jerked at the restraints holding him to the bed. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his breaths came in ragged gasps, eyes roaming the room wildly, glazed over as if he was not really seeing his surroundings but rather was still trapped within whatever nightmare had awakened him.

It took a few long moments for him to calm enough to realize that he was not in fact in Slade’s _special_ room, and a few moments more to register the fact that he was laying on his bed in Wayne Manor, straps holding his body in place.

With that realization, his senses began kicking in and Dick became aware of exactly how much his head _hurt_ , pain radiating through his skull like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. In the same vein, his chest hurt too, each breath making his lungs ache.

And of course, that pain reminded him all too quickly of what had transpired.

_He had failed._

_Pathetic._

Dick took in a slow, shaky breath. Now was not the time to panic again. He needed to think about this. He needed to _plan_.

_Planning would not save him._

_Slade was going to be angry._

Shuddering, Dick shook his head, trying and failing to push back the memories of all the other times that he had messed up. He could not think of that now. There was a reason why he suppressed those memories.

_He had deserved it._

_He had failed._

_Slade was going to be angry._

Stupid. He was so, so stupid. He could not even manage to off himself properly. He deserved whatever punishment Slade would dish out this time. Maybe it would not be so bad? No. Dick had failed. He had messed everything up.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, the noise forcing Dick out of his thoughts, eyes fixing on the doorknob as it turned, and Bruce stepped into the room. Doing his best to school his expression, Dick gave the hero what he could only hope to be a cold stare.

There was only one reason that Dick could think of as to why Bruce was there. “Here to torture information out of me?” After all, Slade had told him that was what would happen if Batman or the League ever captured him.

_Better Batman than Slade._

_No._

_Dick deserved Slade’s punishment._

_He had failed._

Bruce looked taken aback by his words, face drawing down into a frown as he pulled a chair up to the bedside table. “I… no. I’m not going to torture you. I would never torture you.”

“Suuuuure you won’t. I tried to kill you. It’d only be fair for you to return the favor at least…” Dick glanced pointedly down at the bandages wrapped tightly around his chest. “Or at least give me another knife and let me finish the job.”

“You are not going to kill yourself.”

“Easy for you to say… I’ll find some way to end it. I’m not about to let _you_ hold me prisoner.”

“We need to talk about that. We need to talk about a lot of things, actually. But for starters, how are you feeling? Do you need any pain medication? Water? Food?”

Dick sneered at Bruce’s words, nose scrunching up in distaste. “If you think I’m willingly going to eat something that you give me now, you’re seriously mistaken. I am not an idiot. You’d probably just drug it.”

“I already told you that I mean you no harm. In fact, I don’t think I’ve done a single thing to harm you since we met. If anything, I’ve protected you from harm. I really do not understand where all of this is coming from.” Bruce sighed, honestly looking a bit defeated.

Nope. He was not going to fall for the clueless innocent trap. No way.

Dick was smarter than that.

_But he failed anyway._

_He was pathetic._

“Seriously? You don’t understand where this is coming from? Did you seriously think that I didn’t know what you’ve done? That I would willingly live with a monster like you?” Dick let out a derisive snort, glaring at the man in front of him. “You murdered my parents and yet you’re just going to sit there and pretend that this is out of nowhere? Wow, you’re even more of a psychopath than I originally thought.”

Bruce frowned, eyes narrowing as he met Dick’s gaze, stare unwavering. “Murdered your parents? That’s what this is about? Richard, you said that your parents were killed by gang members. And even if they weren’t, how does that link _me_ to their deaths?”

“Yeah, well, I lied about that. I lied about a lot of things. Had to get in with you somehow, after all. And you fell for it, didn’t you? Did it make you feel good, thinking that you had me fooled?”

“Richard, I did not kill your parents. I don’t know who told you that or where you got that idea from, but I had never even heard of you or your parents before I found you in Joker’s hideout.”

Dick huffed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, yeah. Suuure. You can’t lie to me about this, _Batman_. I saw you the night it happened. I _know_ it was you.”

“You… you saw me? Richard, I can assure you with all certainty that whoever you saw was not me. If you want proof, I can find you some. There are news articles and pictures of me in Central City that night, as Bruce Wayne. There was no way Batman was at the circus.” Bruce sounded more than a little bit frustrated, although he was keeping his tone civil at the very least, which was more than Dick could attest to.

It felt surprisingly good to be able to let out the secrets, to be able to reveal himself and not hide behind the pretense of being simply a sweet child caught in unfortunate circumstances.

However, that relief was shallow in comparison to the overbearing waves of confusion in his mind. Proof? If Bruce really did have proof that he was somewhere else the night of his parents’ deaths, then who had done it? Who had pretended to be Batman?

Something was not adding up, and the more Dick focused on things seeming out of place, the more his head began to hurt.

“Show me the proof, and then we can discuss this more.” It was probably all an elaborate trick. There would be no proof. Or it would be photoshopped and fake. It was impossible. Dick had _seen_ Batman there that night. Slade had told him that the killer was Batman.

 _Slade was never wrong_.

Dick watched, mind whirling, as Bruce stood and left the room to go find his ‘proof’. There was no way it was real. It _could not_ be real. It just was not possible… right?

If Slade ever found out that Dick was actually listening to Batman, listening to the _enemy_ , Dick would suffer for it.

_Slade would be angry._

And with that thought, Dick was swarmed by fear once more. He could not ignore the fact that he had so clearly failed, that he had messed up a plan that his master had spent so long working on, so long training him for.

Slade had done nothing but help Dick, asking for little in return, and Dick had turned around and failed him.

He had no right to be scared. Fear was pointless when he knew all too when that whatever punishment Slade dished out, he well and truly deserved. Because he had _failed_. Dick had let himself get caught, had let down the only person who had ever believed in him. And still, even though he knew he deserved whatever punishment was to come, Dick was honestly terrified. He feared the man who had saved him, and in turn, he hated himself for having that fear.

_Pathetic._

_He could not even kill himself properly_.

Dick was so lost in his thoughts that he barely registered Bruce re-entering the room, only looking at him once he had returned to the seat next to his bedside. In his hand was a stack of pictures, along with a tablet.

“I gathered everything that I could find about that night. There’s a lot, actually, considering the fact that I was attending one of the largest tech company conferences in the world.” Bruce told him calmly, watching Dick for a few long moments. “If I untie one of your hands, will you promise not to hurt yourself?”

Unable to hide a flinch at the question, Dick looked away. Of course he would try to hurt himself. He had failed his mission, and thus he needed to die.

Bruce sighed. “Alright then… I’ll just show them to you.”

As he began flicking through the stack of photos, showing Dick picture after picture of Bruce Wayne shaking hands with other men in suits and speaking in front of a large crowned, Dick could feel his suspicions growing.

“You do know that these are all just random photos, right? They don’t show the date. If you’re trying to trick me, this is a pretty pathetic way of going about it.”

Wordlessly, Bruce typed in the tablet’s passcode and held it so that Dick could see, scrolling through news article after news article, all showing the exact same date; the date of Dick’s parents’ murder.

After about the tenth article, Dick’s body slumped, and he looked away. “Fine. Okay? I believe you… you didn’t do it. But if you didn’t do it, then who was it? They were wearing your Batman suit. I _saw_ them.”

“I do not know. That’s something that we’ll have to figure out. But tell me, Dick… who helped you with setting this all up? I know you can’t have planned all this on your own. I mean… no offense or anything, but you’re just a kid. There’s no way an infiltration of this level was planned solely by you.” Bruce still sounded calm, too calm for Dick’s liking.

Or maybe it was the clear concern in his voice that was throwing Dick off. He had tried to murder the man, for crying out loud. Bruce should be angry. He should be furious. But he was nothing but calm and caring, and for the first time in a long time, Dick felt tears prickling up behind his eyes.

_Slade was never this caring._

_Slade._

A chill ran through Dick’s body as his eyes widened. There was no way. 

It was not possible.

Slade had saved him.

Slade had trained him.

Slade was like a father to him.

So… there was no possible way that Slade could have been behind his parents’ murder all along… right?

“No… it can’t be. He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t do that.” Dick whispered, shaking his head, denial clearly written across his face.

_Slade would be furious with Dick for doubting him._

“Who wouldn’t?”

Against his better judgment, Dick whispered the name of the only person who he had thought truly cared. 

“S-Slade…”


	21. The plan unveiled

To say that he was worried would be a serious understatement. In fact, probably the last time Bruce had been this worried was… no. He could not think about that. Not now, at least. Not when Dick so clearly needed him.

_Bruce reached out a hand, trying to comfort his clearly distraught son, only to withdraw it hurriedly as Dick flinched away, a soft whimper of fear slipping past the boy’s lips._

He had let Dick go from his restraints, once he had done a thorough search of his bedroom and bathroom and removed all possibly dangerous items, and had told him that for now, at least, he would be confined to his room.

The door was locked, as were the windows, although Bruce did hope that Dick was not suicidal enough to attempt breaking through them. The three-story fall had to be some kind of deterrent, right?

Bruce snorted to himself.

_Yeah, right._

Of course, it would not be deterrent. Dick had stabbed himself in the chest already.

_Dick’s body was trembling, eyes swirling with too many emotions for Bruce to read. The trembling increased every time Bruce moved closer._

It was fairly plain to see that the boy was not in a very emotionally stable place, something that only made Bruce more and more angry. And, thanks to Dick’s confession as to who was behind his actions, Bruce knew exactly where to direct hat anger.

_Slade Wilson._

Better known in the hero circles as Deathstroke the Terminator.

If looks could kill, Deathstroke would have been tortured, burned at the stake, and then drop kicked into hell hours ago with how hard Bruce was currently glaring at his photo on his computer screen.

To make matters worse, the security cameras that he had placed in Dick’s room were showing a constant feed of the boy curled up in a fetal position in a corner, rocking back and forth ever so often. He had not moved from that position for hours.   
  
Not even when Alfred had brought him food, the tray sitting untouched on his bedside table.

As Bruce glanced at the corner of his screen where the feed was playing, he could practically feel the rage overtaking him.

Dick did not deserve this.

_Bruce reached for him again, doing his best to keep his touch gentle as he released Dick from the straps. Dick scrambled away from him as soon as he was free, shrinking in on himself._

He was a _child_ , and that monster had used and manipulated him, and made him believe in a flawed reality that left him completely unstable now that the veil had been torn down and the truth revealed.

And Bruce, no matter how much he wanted to help Dick, to show him that things could be okay, he did not know how to. He had never been good with emotions, had ever been able to express what he himself was feeling well, much less help a clearly traumatized and suffering child.

But at the same time, he knew that he could not just leave Dick in his room. The boy was clearly not in a good headspace.

_He had tried to commit suicide._

Bruce wanted to help.

No, he _needed_ to help. Even if that meant letting someone else be the one to aid Dick now. And so, Bruce did the only thing that he could think of.

He called the Flash.

~•~

Dick shuddered, pressing back into his corner even more, arms tightening around his legs.

 _It was not safe_.

His eyes burned from keeping them open for so long, his body aching from holding the same position for hours on end. But he could not move away.

 _Not safe_.

As soon as Bruce had untied him and left, Dick had moved into the corner. It was the safest place to be, after all. He could watch both the window and the door at the same time, the wall at his back providing protection from being snuck up on.

It would not take long for Slade to realize that he had failed. They had been meeting up fairly regularly, after all, and Dick knew that his master had the manor and zeta tube entrance under surveillance.

 _Slade was going to be angry_.

He shuddered again, teeth sinking into his lower lip to bite back a distressed whimper. Slade would come for him. Slade would hurt him.

But… but he deserved it. He should not be hiding. He should be trying to find a way to get to his master.

Staying away would just make Slade even more angry.

No… that was not right.

Slade had lied to him. Slade had told him that Batman killed his parents, but there was proof that Bruce had been somewhere else that night.

_Slade might have killed his parents._

_Slade was going to kill him for having doubts._

Dick’s fingers made their way into his hair, tugging at the strands. He knew that he probably looked a mess, knew that Bruce was undoubtedly watching his breakdown. But Dick could not find it himself to care.

_Everything was a lie._

It felt like his entire reality was fragmenting, shards piercing his skull and leaving him reeling in shock. Because, if Slade had truly lied about Batman, then that would have to mean that Slade knew what had happened on the night of his parents’ deaths. And if Slade had somehow had something to do with them dying, then exactly how much of what occurred afterward had been planned?

Had he been molded into a puppet from the very beginning?

Dick did not feel like it was possible for the plan to be that complex. And yet… the _plan_. Was his part of the plan just a mere segment in a much larger scheme? It would have to be… right?

His fingers yanked at his hair harder, the pain radiating through his skull as he struggled to maintain a normal breathing pattern.

_In…_

_Out._

_In…_

_Out._

A frustrated cry left his lips as he threw his head back, skull colliding with the wall with a hollow thump. It was not working. He could not calm down. There were too many thoughts, too many questions.   
  
_He had failed._

_The plan had failed._

_This was not part of the plan._

_Slade was going to be **angry**._

Fear welled up in his chest, silencing the thoughts with pure unadulterated panic. He could not handle Slade being angry… the last time… he had barely survived the last time.

Dick slammed his head back again, the reaction more instinct than anything at this point.

_Needed to calm down._

_Could not calm down._

And then, a sound sliced through his panic, leaving him momentarily confused.

What was that?  
  
It came again, and Dick could not help but flinch. Someone was knocking on the door.

“Dick? I brought someone to see you.” Bruce’s voice filtered through his mind, muffled by the door, but distinct nonetheless.

He wanted to protest, wanted to say that he did not want visitors, but the door was already pushing open and, before he could form the words, it was already closing again, leaving him and the other boy all alone.

Dick was honestly unsure what to say. How was he even supposed to approach this situation? Anxiety started to fill the void that the fear had left, and he shifted uncomfortably on the floor, somehow managing to curl in on himself even tighter.

Really, Dick should not have been so worried. After all, the other boy had been his first real friend since Tommy, and even if that friendship was based off a lie, they had truly bonded.

“Wow. You look like crap.” Wally commented, raising one eyebrow at Dick before he turned his attention onto the bedside table and the untouched plate of food. “Can I eat that?”

It was faint, but Dick’s lips twitched upward ever so slightly.

“Sure,” he mumbled, “you can eat it.”

They both fell silent again as Wally chowed down on the food, finishing everything in record speed before grabbing a blanket off the bed and flopping down next to Dick, completely disregarding how the younger boy flinched away at the action.

“So, Bruce said you stabbed yourself. That doesn’t sound like fun.” Wally tilted his head to the side, contemplating Dick for a long moment before spreading out the blanket and draping it over both of them. “Wanna watch cute cat videos? I brought my laptop?”

Dick blinked, brows furrowing in confusion. “You don’t… you don’t want to talk about it? I know he probably just sent you in here because I wasn’t going to talk to him.”

“I’m here because I’m your friend, Dick. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I don’t need to know unless you want to tell me. Sure, Bruce told the Flash about you going all crazy and attack ninja on him, but from the sounds of it, it wasn’t your fault. And even if it was your fault, you’re still my friend. I’m here to support you.” As he spoke, Wally unslung his backpack from his shoulder, pulling out a beaten-up laptop and a bag of chocolate. He passed the bag to Dick and turned on his computer. “So… cute cats?”

Slowly, Dick let out a long breath, some of the tension leaving his body as he huddled up under the blanket. “Sure… cute cats sound good.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, eyes fixed on the screen, watching kittens rolling around with eachother. Around half an hour into the video watching, Dick began to talk, voice soft and slightly raspy.

“Not sure if Bruce has told you, but… I grew up in the circus. Or at least, I was with them until I was eight. We traveled around a lot, but it was the first time we had come to America since I was too little to perform, so I was excited. Gotham City was the third stop on our trip, and we were only supposed to be here for a week. It was our last night’s performance, but I landed funny in practice and sprained my wrist so my parents decided that I shouldn’t go on with them. I… I checked the lines before they went on. Everything looked fine, but… but it wasn’t fine. We performed without a net, and… well… the trapeze is very high up.” His voice broke as he hunched up a bit more under the blanket.

Wally reached over, handing him a piece of chocolate. “Hey, you don’t need to talk about it if it’s too painful. You don’t need to talk about it, period. It’s okay.”

Dick simply sighed, shaking his head. “I need to… to talk about it. Besides, it’s better with you here… that way I don’t have to repeat it.” He glanced pointedly down at the recording device which was poorly hidden inside Wally’s backpack.

“Sorry… he wouldn’t let me come in without it.” At least Wally had enough tact to sound remorseful about it.

“No… it’s okay. It… things are better this way.” Dick sighed, reaching for the device and setting it down in front of them both so his words would be picked up more clearly. He did not think he could tell everything to Bruce face to face. This was better. At least he did not have to worry about fending off an attack from Wally. The speedster was too nice to be plotting things.

“So… anyway… I watched them fall. And… and that wasn’t even the worst part. Earlier in the night… I saw… well, I saw _Batman_. I didn’t know it was him, even though I know now that it _wasn’t_ actually him, I was still not great at English, and we didn’t have any tv connections to be able to watch the news or stuff like that, but it was a man dressed in black with a bat mask and a cape. I _told_ my parents. I… I said it looked suspicious, but… but I should have pushed harder. We were members of a circus, after all. Strange people came around all the time. I… it’s my fault they fell. If I had done a better job at checking everything, if I had made a bigger deal about the man dressed like a bat, if…” He shook his head, sighing softly. “Nothing I can do about it now anyway. They took me to a boy’s home that night. It wasn’t the best, but it could have been worse. I made a friend, my first real friend. He was older and kept the meaner kids away… but then he ran off with his twin sister and I never saw him again.”

Wally frowned, placing a gentle hand on Dick’s shoulder. “That’s awful, Dick. I… If I’m being honest, I can’t really relate to what you’ve been through, but… that sucks.”

Dick gave him a wobbly smile before continuing on. “Anyway… after he left the kids got meaner. Not that I can really blame them though. I was the weird little gypsy kid who had a weird accent and had been friends with the main person keeping everyone in line. So, I learned to adapt. I couldn’t fight back with punches, so I started pranking everyone. Didn’t take too long before they learned to leave me alone. Things had started to get better, and then… and then Slade came along. He told me Batman had killed my parents and he could help bring him to justice, and… well… I was a kid. It made sense at the time, considering the man dressed like a bat that I saw the night _it_ happened. That and most of the kids had Batman horror stories, considering the fact that their parents were criminals. To them, he was a monster, so he became a monster for me too.”

He sighed, eyes still focused on the computer screen, watching as two kittens tumbled over eachother in a play fight. “Slade was… is… like a father to me. He took me in, taught me how to protect myself, taught me how to fight. I… I would be nothing if not for him. I _am_ nothing if not for him.”

“Di–”

Dick lifted a hand, stopping Wally’s protest. “You can say that it’s not true, but… but it _is_. At least somewhat. I mean… he was never the most affectionate, but… but he was better than nothing.” His eyes flicked to the window, watching it warily as he spoke his next words. “He would get violent when I messed stuff up… I… I deserved it. Of course I did. I was a dumb kid doing dumb things, but I learned pretty quickly on that Slade does not accept failure. And I _failed_ here. This… me being here… it was all part of a plan. And, well… considering the fact that there’s a high chance Slade killed my parents instead of Bruce, my part is probably just a minor step in a much larger scheme. The whole thing was a set up from the start.”

Wally frowned, confusion fliting over his features. “But Bruce said that you were found almost dead in Joker’s hideout. That can’t have been part of your plan, right?”

“Believe it or not, I actually let him do that… we prepared for weeks… I starved myself, he beat me up over and over again so I would have older injuries to fit in with the narrative of being tortured. I let myself be injected with all kinds of drugs too… and then… when it actually happened, Slade quite literally beat me with a baseball bat. And… and I wanted it all to happen, because then I would be able to finally get my revenge.” Dick smiled softly, letting out a soft, miserable, laugh. “It was the perfect plan. Slade really is a genius, you know… if I hadn’t messed up and gotten caught, well… I would have been able to kill Bruce and get all of the information Slade needed. Everything was planned down to even having multiple scenarios thought through. And then I… I _failed_.”

_Pathetic._

_He was pathetic._

_Slade was going to be so angry._

“Hey… Dick… you failing is a good thing, right? I mean… you’ve realized that he was just messing with your mind the whole time before things could get really bad.”

“Not really… he already has access to all the League databases. I hacked the computer during the Red raid. That was Slade too, actually. He… he’s so smart. Even… even when I told him that I couldn’t access the Batcave data, he thought of a way to get me in. All the adults going missing… he was behind that. There’s a whole organization of super villains out there. That’s what all of the intel gathering was for.”

Wally was looking increasingly panicked by the second, but Dick could not bring himself to really care. He just felt numb. Numb and cold. After all, he had failed Slade, he had failed Batman, and he had failed his friendship with Wally.

_No one would want him anymore._

_Worthless._

_Would be better to have died._

“Dick, does Batman know about this?”

“He does now.”

“This is bad, Dick. Really, really bad. You know that, right? I mean… the League stuff isn’t the end of the world, I guess. Most of the things in that database are just old mission files. But Bruce stockpiles everything.”

Dick laughed again, the sound somehow even more sad and broken. “Yeah, I know… probably why they framed Batman from the beginning. They chose the perfect person too… probably knew that he would take pity on a clearly abused and beaten child, and after setting up everything to look like the system had failed me, and what with me not having any relatives remaining, there weren’t many options for a hero to take besides finding some way to take care of me themselves.”

Wally’s frown deepened at those words, looking more and more horrified by the second. “Dick… none of this is your fault, okay? Slade clearly manipulated you. You were a kid when he got a hold of you. There was nothing that you could have done.”

“I was stupid. Could have been smarter. But hey… at least Bruce caught me before I got a chance to give Slade the info from the Batcave. Really would not have been good for them to get a hold of every hero’s secret identity. The flash drive is inside the sole of one of my shoes.”

“I… you… I’m not sure if I should be impressed that you actually managed to hack into the Batcave security, or horrified that Slade nearly got hold of everyone’s identities. That could have been a disaster.”

Dick hummed softly. “Yeah… heavy on the dis.”

“What?”

“Nevermind.”

It felt good, to have shared what was really going on with someone… well… everyone, technically, because there was no possible way that Bruce was not listening in on the recording device. The heroes could rest assured that their identities would remain a secret.

Bruce could destroy the flash drive and be done with it all, and Dick… well… it could not be that hard to forget all of the names and faces that he had memorized, right?

And even if he never forgot, he could at least rest assured that no one would ever take those memories from him.

_Slade had trained him to withstand torture._

~•~

Bruce frowned as the conversation between the two boys came to an end, brows creasing together as he felt worry wash over him.

Sure, what Dick had just admitted to doing was horrible, but it had just made the boy’s unstable emotional state all that more clear to him. 

Dick was blaming himself for what was happening, and it was still abundantly clear that his attachment to Slade was still there.

Once again, Bruce did not know what to do.

He was failing as a parent.

He could not fail again.

_He refused to lose this boy like he had the last._

That thought made him freeze for a moment, his eyes widening.

 _Maybe_.

It would be a gamble, but _he_ knew more of what it was like to be tortured and manipulated. If _he_ was willing to help, Bruce knew that _he_ could make a serious difference.

And so, Bruce pulled out his phone, punching in the numbers that he had memorized years ago.

For Dick.

He would do this for Dick, his son.

“Hey Jason. It’s Bruce. I… I need your help.”


	22. Bat-sibling or whatever

“What the fuck, Bruce? Seriously? Are you out of your mind? Why on earth did you think you could take care of another kid?” Jason asked, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed in a glare as he stared down his old mentor.

“He needed my help.”

“Oh yeah, sure he did. You should know better than to take in strays off the street. I mean, look at what happened with me.”

Bruce sighed, shaking his head and lowering his gaze. There was a reason why he had not spoken with Jason for nearly a year. Well, a few reasons, actually, but this was one of them. Jason was so clearly angry, and while Bruce knew he had a right to be angry, he did not have time for this conversation.   
  
“Look, we can discuss this later. I really do need your help with this.”

Jason snorted derisively, rolling his eyes. “Well that I’m sure of, at least. You wouldn’t have called at all if you didn’t need some kind of help.”

“Ja–”

“Just shut it and show me where the kid is.”

This was probably a horrible idea. Bruce was already regretting asking Jason for help, and the younger man had only been in the cave for a few minutes. Letting out another sigh, Bruce turned and began leading them away from the entryway. “He’s in his room… I brought Wally in to talk with him yesterday, which is how I found out the full details of what’s going on, but… he really isn’t in a good spot, and I don’t know how to help.”

“Of course you don’t know how to help. You’re a rich asshole with no empathy whatsoever. Just because your parents got killed, doesn’t mean that you are given magical orphan communication powers.” Pushing his way past Bruce, Jason stormed up the main stairwell, heading toward the bedrooms. “Please tell me you at least didn’t lock him in there?”

One look at Bruce was all it took to make Jason let loose a stream of expletives.

“Seriously? _Seriously_ , Bruce? What the fuck? That is not how you reassure a frightened child.”

~•~

Dick had not moved from his spot on the floor, although he had kept the blanket once Wally had left. He was feeling better, truly, but he still did not feel comfortable moving around the room yet, especially not when he was worried that Slade had somehow heard his confession to Wally and would come barreling through the window at any moment.

That being said, his paranoia did not stop him from hearing the steadily approaching voices. One was easily identifiable as Bruce, but the other he could not place. It sounded younger… but definitely not one of the other guys from the Team.

Ears straining, Dick tried to pick up on what they were saying.   
  
“It’s for his own protection.”

“Oh, fuck off.”  
  
“Jay…”

“Take your fucking hand off me, bastard. I am not in the mood to deal with your bullshit.”

Dick fought back a snicker of amusement. Whoever it was definitely did not care about offending Bruce, and Dick could appreciate how much guts that would have to take.

The door to his room swung open, banging against the wall as a young man stepped into the room. He looked to be around his early twenties or late teens, dressed in a tan leather jacket and black shirt, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and a tuft of white hair standing out against his otherwise raven black locks.

Before Dick even really had time to register what was going on, the stranger was at his side, grabbing him by his arm and pulling him to his feet.   
  
“Fucking hell, Bruce. The kid looks starved and traumatized. What have you been doing to him?” The man demanded, turning to glower at Bruce before looking back at Dick, still holding him firmly by the arm. “Sup, kid. I’m Jason, also known as that moron’s first screwup.”

Dick blinked, brows furrowing together in confusion, eyes darting between Bruce and Jason. “Um… hi? I’m Dick. I… I didn’t know Bruce had a son.”

“Dick? Seriously? Did your parents _want_ you to get bullied?” Jason lifted his free hand, cutting off Dick’s protest. “And I’m not his son. God help any poor bastard who is. He took me off the street a while back. Then he got me killed, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.”

Bruce frowned, giving Dick his best reassuring smile. It did not look all that reassuring. “It’s okay, Dick… he’s here to help.”  
  
“Damn right I am.” Jason eyed Dick judgmentally before shoving him toward the bathroom. “Take a shower and hurry up about it. We’re going out.”  
  
“Going out? Going where? I… I don’t… I don’t want to leave.” Dick protested, shaking his head and glancing back at Bruce again.

Jason rolled his eyes, pushing him a bit harder, making Dick stumble as he stepped into the bathroom. “He can’t save you now, kid. We’re going out, and we’re gonna sort through your whole ‘everything I know is a lie’ thing. It’ll be fun. Think about it like sibling bonding.”

“But–” Jason cut off his words, practically slamming the door in his face.

“Make it quick, kid. The faster we get away from the asshole, the better.”

Dick could hear Bruce’s loud sigh even through the closed door.

Seeing no real way out of this situation, Dick undressed, unwrapping the bandage around his chest and stepping into the shower. The water had only just turned on when the door opened, and someone entered the bathroom.

“Yo, kid? I grabbed you some clothes from the closet… and I sent Bruce off to go do whatever it is he does when he isn’t bothering orphaned children. Anyway… I’ll be waiting out here for when you’re done.”

The door then closed, leaving Dick in relative privacy. Jason was weird. Really, really, really weird, and he really was not sure how to feel about it all. And he definitely did not want to leave the house.

_Slade was mad._

It would not be safe. But at the same time, Dick was starting to overcome the initial shock of everything, his mind centering around something far more important. He needed to know the truth. And in order to do that, he needed to find Slade.

Dick dried himself off and got dressed, finding fresh bandages on the counter, before heading out into his room once again. As he stepped out of the bathroom, Dick could not help but raise one eyebrow as he took in the sight of Jason snooping through his drawers. “Um… what are you doing?”

“Seeing if you’ve got anything valuable here.” Jason informed him honestly, shrugging and tucking a fancy looking watch into his pocket. Dick had not even known that was there.

Nodding slowly, Dick stepped past him and opened a drawer in his bedside table, pulling out his wallet and opening it. “Bruce gave me a credit card that’s got pretty much no limit,” he said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he offered it to Jason.

The older male took it, eyeing the card for one long moment before tucking it into his pocket and grinning at Dick and slinging his arm around the shorter boy’s shoulders. “Oh, hell yeah. I think I like you already, Dickie-bird.”

“Dickie-bird?” Dick questioned, huffing as Jason only grinned more and ruffled his hair.

“Yup. I got a bone to pick with you, actually… how come you get to pick your own hero name? Like… what the fuck? Bruce made me be Batboy. Fuckin’ _Batboy_. Seriously, thank God that Joker offed me when he did. No one needed to know about _Batboy_.”

“… Batboy?” He could not help but laugh, the soft snickers quickly turning into a full-blown cackle. “I didn’t even know he had another partner before me.”

Jason only pouted. “Hey! Not my fault. Like I said, it was Bruce’s idea. And, yeah… no one knew about me back then. Probably for the best with a stupid name like that. I’d only been patrolling with Bruce for a few weeks before I died.”

The older male began walking, pulling Dick along with him, out of the bedroom and toward the stairs. Dick could not find it in himself to protest.

“You said that before… that you died. What method brought you back?”

“Lazarus pit.”

“But the only one of those still around belongs to the League of Assassins… they brought you back?”

Humming absently, Jason nodded and pulled open the front door, ushering Dick outside. “Yup.”

Dick’s brows furrowed together, questions and answers clicking into place in his mind. “That’s why Bruce asked you to come, isn’t it? Because you’ve done your time with the bad guys?”

“Not bad kid, that’s a pretty quick deduction. You’re right though… I’ve done some things I regret, walked on the dark side, if you will. More than Bruce has, at least. As much as that idiot tries to seem all tough and bad, his moral code holds him back from being a serious threat.”

Jason unslung his arm from Dick’s shoulder as they stepped up to a motorcycle standing in the middle of the massive driveway. He picked up a helmet resting on the seat, tossing it to Dick.

Catching it easily, Dick put it on. “Right, okay. So what do you do? I mean… seeing as how you clearly don’t work with Batman.”

“Ever heard of Red Hood?”

“Wait… really? Slade talked about you sometimes. Said you were what Gotham actually needs.” Dick murmured, eyes wide as he gazed up at the male with a newfound respect. Red Hood was an antihero that he had studied a lot, finding his approach to cleaning up crime more than a little bit fascinating.

Jason simply laughed, hopping onto his bike and gesturing with his head for Dick to get on. “Come on, kid. We got places to be. You can fangirl later.”

Dick pouted, climbing on behind him with a huff. “I’m not fangirling… I just like how you do stuff… even if you’re less in the spotlight. Actually, probably more because you stay out of the spotlight. You do what Bruce can’t, and I respect that.”

“Uh-huh. You really have trained with the experts. Flattery will get you everywhere.” Jason shook his head, clearly amused by the younger male. Starting up the bike, they took off down the long driveway. If there had been a speed limit, Jason would have been way over it.

They both stayed silent as Jason drove, although Dick was growing more and more curious about where exactly he was being taken. If he did not know better, this would feel like a kidnapping.

But he trusted Bruce not to let some lunatic come take him.

Wait.

_He trusted Bruce._

When had that happened?

Oh right. Wally should really become a psychiatrist or something. His friendship act had done its job nicely… or, as Dick was really beginning to believe, Wally truly was his friend. And that meant the world to him.

Even more than that, Dick _trusted_ Bruce. Sure, Bruce had locked him in his room and not really made any attempt to speak to him over the past few days, but he had brought in Wally, and Dick had really needed his friend’s support. And now, Bruce had brought in Jason, even though it really did not seem like the two got along well at all, and that… well… Dick appreciated that.

He appreciated the fact that Bruce was self-aware enough to admit when he could not handle a situation and needed to bring in help.

_Dick trusted him._

That revelation alone was enough to give Dick plenty to think about, and he zoned out for the rest of the ride, eyes only vaguely picking up on the surrounding landscape that was gradually growing more and more familiar. In fact, it was only when they came to a stop that Dick realized exactly where they were, his body tensing as his eyes scanned the street warily.

It was a fairly average looking suburban neighborhood. And yet… to Dick, this place meant something so much more.

“Why are we here?”

Jason shrugged, climbing off his bike crossing his arms over his chest. “This is it, right? Slade’s latest hideout? Or at least the one where you last were… I’ve been tracking him for a while now. Wasn’t hard to figure out which one you had been raised in, considering the fact that he doesn’t have many actual houses.”

“That still doesn’t answer why.” Dick’s eyes narrowed, gaze hardening as he too slipped off the bike. He was already holding his body differently, his stance ready to go on the defensive at a moment’s notice.

“Bruce wasn’t going to let you do this. But I’m not Bruce. I know what it’s like to be lied to and to feel betrayed. It burns, doesn’t it? Knowing that someone you trusted and looked up to let you down?” Jason looked too nonchalant, too calm.

Dick could feel himself already starting to panic, and yet, Jason continued on.

“You can’t live your life in constant fear that someone’s going to come after you. It isn’t healthy, and you’ve clearly got more than enough bullshit to deal with without that getting in the way. Besides, you went after Bruce because you thought he murdered your parents, right? You’re not going to feel safe or happy until you know the truth.”

“Sure, you have a point, I guess. But he’s _Deathstroke_. I’m not going to be able to take down _Deathstroke_.”

“Who said anything about taking him down? All I’m saying is that you need to figure out what the hell is going on. Hiding from your problems isn’t the way to deal with it. You need to know the truth and facing him is the only way to do that.”  
  
Dick gritted his teeth, body tensing further before he took in a slow breath, concentrating on calming his racing heart. “So what… you’re saying I go in there and ask him nicely? He’s not going to be happy about me figuring everything out. I… Slade gets _ugly_ when he’s not pleased.”

“Who said anything about you going in alone? As if I’m about to send my new bat-sibling or whatever off to their death. That’s just fucking stupid. I regret calling you smart already.” Jason rolled his eyes, gesturing at himself in a rather over-exaggerated manner. “Of course I’m going in with you. Hell, the only reason I agreed to Bruce calling me over was because I knew the asshole wouldn’t let you work stuff out how you need to work it out.”

“Right… okay. So you and me… we take down Slade? I don’t even have weapons.” Dick was still rather hesitant about the idea, although Jason really was starting to make sense. He was right about not needing to live in fear. He was right about this being something that Bruce would never let him do. He was right that Dick needed answers.

_He needed to avenge his parents._

Jason unslung his backpack, pulling out… wait… that was _Dick’s_ Robin costume.

“Jason, why do you have my Robin suit?”

“What, you thought I was just snooping around for valuables? You gotta do a better job at hiding your shit, kid. Behind the suits? Seriously?” Jason did not even have the decency to look ashamed.

“It’s a backup.” Dick protested, snatching it from Jason’s hands and holding it close to his chest. “Bruce doesn’t know I have one in my room.”

“You don’t have to explain to me, kid.” Jason rolled his eyes, proceeding to dump out the other contents of his backpack, which mostly included various weapons from guns to throwing knives to grenades.

Dick picked up a gun, eyeing it for a long moment.

_Slade had showed him how to use a gun._

He put the gun down, picking up a pair of eskrima sticks and nodding. “Right. Okay. We can do this. Just one condition.”

“What?”

“Stop calling me kid. I’m not a child.” Dick’s tone had shifted colder, stonier.

Jason glanced over at him, noting the hardness in the younger boy’s eyes, along with the resolved set to his shoulders. Slowly, a grin spread across Jason’s lips. “Sure thing… Robin. About time you started getting serious.”

For the first time, Dick felt that the name actually fit.

No longer was he just Slade’s apprentice doing a mission.

No longer was he putting on the false pretense of being a hero.

No longer was he a naïve and easily fooled child, manipulated into doing what he was told.

Taking in a slow breath, Robin nodded. “Good.”

_He was ready._

It was time to know the truth.

Slade would not know what hit him.

_Slade was going to be angry._

Good.

Dick was angry too.


	23. Stupid plan

Stepping into the house felt surreal. So much had changed since he was last there, and yet inside the house nothing seemed to have changed at all.

Pictures of Slade and Dick adorned the walls, his younger self’s smiling face sending chills down his spine. It was all the same, and Dick hated it. He hated that he still felt at home; hated that he now knew that it was all a lie.

“Wow. This is like an actual family home. What the fuck.” Jason commented, taking one of the photos off the wall, staring down at the image of a younger and clearly happier Dick, standing next to Slade, the older male looking almost unrecognizable with his civilian clothes and found smile.

Dick glanced over at the photo, teeth sinking into his lower lip.

_It hurt. It hurt so much._

“That was my twelfth birthday… my first one with Slade, actually. He took me to an amusement park. I’d never been to one before,” he whispered, taking the photo from Jason and carefully placing it back upon the wall, a bitter laugh falling from his lips. “I couldn’t win a shooting game and got really sad, so he played and won me a teddy bear. He really went all out to gain my trust. Kinda funny, actually.”

Jason frowned, reaching over to ruffle Dick’s hair. “Hey now… if it’s any consolation, it does look like he actually cared in that photo. Sure, everything was a lie, but I’m sure he cared about you in his own way.”

“I know Slade… he didn’t care about _me_. He cared the plan. And I was just a pawn in that plan.” Dick sighed, shaking his head and continuing down the entryway hall. “He’s not here… but he’ll be here soon. The house has motion sensors and cameras. We need to prepare for a fight.”

“Right. Okay. You know this house, where should we go? Are there other entrances?”  
  
“Yup. Garage, back door, side door, front door. We should go to the training room. I… it’s close to the side door, so an easy escape. Also only has two entrances, so it’ll be easier to defend if it comes to that… hopefully, he’ll let us just talk. But I know Slade, and… well… Slade does not like failures.” Dick took in a slow breath, eyes narrowing as he glanced up at the corner of the room, noting the tiny camera that was pointed directly at them, red light blinking faintly.

Jason was beginning to think that maybe this was not such a great idea. Dick seemed too unfocused, too affected by the house to be fully present in what they were trying to do. If things went south, Jason was unsure how Dick would react.

But it was too late to stop the plan now. They had already broken into the house and tripped the alarms. Slade would know that Dick had turned against him, meaning that there would be no fleeing; it was time to act.

Leading them through the house, Dick brought Jason to the room where he had spent hours upon hours training to be a good fighter; where Slade had molded him into the perfect assassin. The room appeared fairly nondescript at first glance, wide and open with a wood floor and minimal furnishings. A few swords hung on the walls, but other than that, the room was completely barren.

Dick stepped up to the back wall, gripping the handle of one of the swords and twisting it sideways. Parts of the wall opened up, revealing more weapons of various nature along with several screens, the largest playing footage from cameras around the house.

“Impressive.”

“Yeah, well… unless Slade puts it on a loop before arriving, we’ll be able to see his entrance through these. I mean… unless there’s a secret entrance that he never told me about, which wouldn’t be surprising at this point.”

Jason snorted a laugh, rolling his eyes and leaning against the wall. “Right, okay. No point worrying about that… he’ll come to us either way. We can just chill out for now.”

“Sure… I guess so.” Dick nodded, taking in a deep breath.

_This was really happening._

Unable to relax like Jason, Dick focused his gaze on the computers, ears straining to pick up any possible sounds. It was nerve-racking; having to wait like this. The silence was practically deafening, and yet Dick could not bring himself to make small talk, his mind whirling with the possibilities of the oncoming encounter.

Fortunately, Jason did not seem to have the same issues with talking.

“So, has Alfred made you waffles yet? They’re about the only thing he can’t make well. Seriously, they’re fucking gross.”

Dick blinked, glancing away from the screen briefly to give the older male a judgmental look. “Waffles?”

Jason nodded vigorously. “He clearly has not made them for you yet. You’d know if you ate them, they taste like paste. Literal crap. Packet mix waffles would taste better. Hell, packet mix waffles do taste better. But you can’t tell Alfred that they taste like crap, otherwise he’ll beat you with a fucking spoon. The old dude whacked me with a spoon so many times. I wasn’t even that bad.”

“He hasn’t hit me with a spoon.”

“Of course he hasn’t.”

The pout in Jason’s voice was enough to make Dick glance away from the screen again, and when he looked back, he could have sworn he saw a flash of orange in one corner.

“Jason…”

“Just never tell him that they taste bad when he does inevitably make them. He’s always so proud of them. Like, sure, they might look pretty or whatever, but they taste like shit which really just ruins everything, ya know?”

Dick saw another flash of orange and black in one of the cameras, and he turned away, eyes narrowing at the doors. “Jason… he’s here.”

“I’m pretty sure those waffles scarred me for life. Can’t even think about eating a waffle without feeling sick.” Jason continued on, frowning after a moment as he registered Dick’s words. “Oh. Really? Well that fucking sucks. You ready, Rob?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Red.”

“Well, well, isn’t this charming? Richard, may I ask why you felt the need to bring a friend home?”   
  
Dick flinched, eyes roaming around the room. The door had not opened. He had been watching it. So… where?

Part of the wall opposite him and Jason lowered, and Slade stepped into the room, decked out in his full Deathstroke attire.

“Slade.” What was meant to be an accusatory tone slipped into nothing more than a whisper.

Slade chuckled, lifting one grey eyebrow. “Yes, boy? Speak up.”

“Did you do it?”

“Do what?”

His old mentor sounded so calm, so collected. That alone was enough to rekindle the flames of rage inside him. “You know what. My parents, Slade. I know Batman didn’t kill them.”

Slade smirked. _Smirked_.

Dick bit back a growl. He would not let Slade toy with his emotions. Not anymore. Not now that he knew he had been lied to. “Tell me. You owe me that much, at least.”

“Owe you? I owe you nothing, apprentice. But yes. Of course I killed them. What, did you think it was just a coincidence?” Slade was too calm, making no move to attack, watching with thinly veiled amusement as Dick stumbled back as if he had just been struck.

Dick had known that this was the answer he would receive. He had _known_. So why did it hurt so much? Why did this confirmation feel like a burning knife driven into his heart? Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe?

He gritted his teeth together, finding comfort in Jason, the older male stepping up behind him, offering silent support.

_It hurt._

But that was okay.

_Slade had trained him to handle pain._

“How much of it was fake? How much of… how much of all this was a lie?” He asked, gesturing around at the room, eyes burning with the odd need to cry.

Slade had been like a father too him.

_Slade had killed his real father._

Slade simply shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest, the amusement growing all the more evident in his eyes. “Do you really want to know that, Dick? Do you really think you can handle that information? You are weak, boy. You are foolish and naïve. You have no one but yourself to blame for this.”

“Shut up! You manipulated me! You… you made me think you a-actually _cared_.”

“You thought that on your own. You are just a needy little boy trying to latch onto whoever will give you affection. It’s hardly my fault that you are so emotionally driven. In fact, I tried to break you of that habit. Clearly, I did not do a good enough job if you’re letting _heroes_ tell you what to do. _Pathetic_.”

Dick could not help flinching back. It felt like he was shrinking, weighed down by Slade’s words, smothered and unable to breathe.

_It hurt._

“Oh, fuck off. You murdered his fucking parents in front of him, dipshit. Of course he’s going to be an emotional wreck. God, no wonder the kid is messed up. You’re a fucking horrible parental replacement. Even fucking _Batman_ is better at parenting than you are, and he’s an emotionally constipated asshole.” Jason’s hand clamped down firmly on Dick’s shoulder as he stepped forward, putting himself ever so slightly in front of the younger boy. “So, what do you say, Robin? You wanna kick some mercenary ass or what? Because I really wanna kick some mercenary ass.”

The statement was a bit rough around the edges, sure, but Dick could not help the faint smile spreading across his lips. He had always been on his own when dealing with Slade’s harsh words. It was comforting, having someone willing to stick up for him; willing to put themselves between him and a clearly deadly foe.

_He did not have to do this alone._

“I’m ready.”

Even the sound of Slade’s sword sliding out of its sheath did not faze him.

_He was not alone._

“You are going to regret turning against me, apprentice. And you, Red Hood… you will regret getting involved in this.” Slade informed him coldly, striding closer, his stance having clearly shifted into one that Dick knew all too well. He was like a predator stalking its prey, and Dick, well, Dick knew that he was that prey.

Still, his smile remained, his eyes narrowing, the brilliant blue burning with fiery passion. “I disagree. You do not control me anymore, _master_. You killed my parents. You lied to me about everything. You will pay.”

“Well, you heard the kid. He’s in charge for this fight.”

Jason fired the first shots, the bullets burying into the wall as Slade dodged with deadly speed, lunging into action.

Dick followed suit, attacking with all the ferocity that he could muster, his pent-up anger burning like fire through his body, numbing pain and adding a steely edge to his resolve. He would not lose. He could not lose.

_He was not alone._

However, as the fight progressed, it became more and more clear to Dick that he should have come alone.

Slade was targeting Jason, and Jason, while a very competent fighter, was no match for the mercenary. Every attempt by Dick to get Slade away or to distract the fight onto himself was only met with parries and no returned attack. And, to make it even worse, Slade was fighting in an entirely different manner from what Dick was used to.

It was beyond frustrating, and yet at the same time, Dick could not help but feel foolish. Of course, Slade had not taught Dick everything. Why would he? After all, it was all just a lie. Slade had probably planned for Dick turning against him from before he even took him in, and that thought alone made Dick furious.

Dick knew what Slade was doing. He would take out Jason and then defeat Dick before dragging him off to be tortured for disobeying. It was textbook Slade, and yet, Dick could see no way out of this situation.

Not unless they tried to escape now.

“Red! He’s trying to take you down first!”  
  
“Yeah, kinda figured that much.” Jason snapped back, ducking under a sword swipe and firing his gun. “Fuck.” He was out of bullets.

Dick yanked a sword off the wall just in time to block a downstroke from Slade which would have hit Jason’s shoulder. “You need to go. G-get out of here,” he told Jason, doing his best to push Slade back from the other male.

“Strategizing with me right here? Your training really has gone to waste… such a shame.” Slade chided, landing a solid kick against Dick’s chest and sending him flying.

He hit a wall, back arching as the air left his lungs, only able to watch as Slade lunged for Jason again. Jason was not running.

_Why was he not running?_

Blood splattered on the floor as the sword found a new home in Jason’s chest, but still the antihero continued to fight back. Jason was losing. It was clear that Jason was losing. And yet… and yet he continued to fight, continued to fight Dick’s battle for him.

That thought pulled Dick out of his head and back into the battle. He was bruised and out of breath, sure, but other than the preexisting wound from his failed suicide, he was mostly unharmed.

This was his fight, not Jason’s.

Jason was being hurt because of him.

“Leave him alone, Slade. Your fight is with me. This is between us and us alone.” Dick sprung back into battle, swinging his sword at Slade as Jason dropped to the floor, too injured to continue onward. This was a losing battle, Dick knew that, but he could accept that. It was his own fault for agreeing to this stupid idea. He had been foolish, thinking that this could work, and Jason was hurt because of it.

He could accept torture if he knew that it meant Jason would live.

That being said though, Dick was not about to go down without a fight.

And Dick really did put up a good fight, especially considering that he had not slept or eaten in a few days. But he was weak… too weak to ever be able to beat his master.

Slowly, he could feel his attacks weakening, his arms aching with the effort of wielding the sword, numerous slash and stab marks dripping blood down his body and onto the floor.

He would not give up.

_He could not give up._

Even as Slade’s blade cut deep into his shoulder, even as black spots began to cloud his vision, Dick continued to fight. His parents deserved at least that much from their failure of a son.

Even as the sword became too slippery in his grasp, the hilt slick with blood, Dick pushed forward, pushed onward.

It dropped to the floor with a loud clatter, and yet, Dick was still not finished yet.

His legs gave out from under him and his body toppled to the floor, yet still he tried to rise again.

Slade’s fingers gripped Dick’s hair, lifting his head up before slamming it down onto the floor, over and over again until the blue eyes drifted closed and the fight drained from his body.

Slowly, the mercenary gathered the boy’s limp body into his arms, standing and carrying him out of the room, leaving the barely conscious Red Hood to bleed out on the floor.

Slade looked down at the boy he was carrying, gently caressing his bloodied cheek with one finger. “It really is too bad, boy… you could have been great,” he murmured, shaking his head in disappointment.

Truly, it was too bad. The boy had had so much potential, and all that was lost now. After all, once Slade was done with him, Richard Grayson would be nothing more than a lifeless shell. Oh well. Sacrifices were necessary.

~•~

To say that Bruce was furious would be an extreme understatement. In fact, it was doubtful if words were strong enough to explain the amount of rage that he was experiencing. He had thought Jason was going to help.

Jason had said that he would help, not lead Dick into more trouble.

Which he had most certainly done, considering the fact that both Dick’s and Jason’s emergency signals had gone off within minutes of eachother, meaning that something serious had to have happened.

What made him even more angry though, was the fact that it had taken an absurd amount of time to track the signals, they had been distorted by _something_ , and Bruce had only been able to pinpoint an area when he by chance stumbled upon Jason’s motorcycle parked next to a random house in a suburban neighborhood.

After that, it did not take long for him to discover that the door had been broken into, and, after searching most of the house, Bruce had finally stumbled upon what quite frankly looked like a murder zone. Blood splattered the walls and lay in pools on the floor, various weapons were scattered around the room, and, worst of all, Jason lay in a growing pool of blood slumped against a wall.

Bruce hurried to his side, kneeling next to him and examining his injuries carefully. “Red Hood. What happened?”

Jason coughed weakly, his eyes fluttering faintly, barely managing to stay open. “S-stupid plan… sorry… he… he got the kid.”

“Shh… don’t talk. We’ll figure this out later. Let me just get you to Alfred, and you’ll be patched up in no time, okay?” Bruce pushed away his anger for now. It was not the right time for an interrogation. Jason needed him. “It’s alright. I’ve got you now. You can rest.”

“N-nice to see that you care… now…” Jason’s eyes really did flutter closed this time, his body slumping forward.

Bruce caught him, carefully picking him up and carrying him from the room.

It really was a shame that Jason was unconscious, because he missed the fear and worry in his mentor’s eyes, missed the whispered reassurances that he was going to be okay, missed the mumbled apologies for letting this happen again.


	24. A broken bird

“Wally? Any word on Robin?”

“Batman asked me to see him a while ago… he wasn’t doing great, sure, but it’s weird that we haven’t heard anything.”

“What do you mean he wasn’t doing great? Is he okay?”

Wally frowned, mind wandering back to a few days earlier when he had visited his friend. Yeah, Dick probably did not want the team to know about everything, at least not yet. But still, Wally was growing concerned too. It had been days since he had spoken to Dick, and he was growing anxious for news. “He’s… I mean… I’d hope that he’s doing better. He seemed like he would be doing better by now.”

The vague words did little to convince the team, who were growing more and more concerned by the minute.

Connor stepped forward, eyes narrowing as he stared Wally down. “What’s wrong with him? We’re his teammates. We deserve to know if something is wrong.”

“Um… it’s a secret?” Wally stepped back, looking anywhere but at Connor. This was not going to end well. Why did anyone think that he could be trusted with secrets? He was horrible at keeping secrets.

“You better tell us, Baywatch. Unless you want something bad to happen.”

When had Artemis managed to get behind him? And when had she gotten so scary?

Thankfully, Kaldur was there to step in. “I don’t think we should be threatening our teammates, Artemis. But I do think that we need to know. If something is truly wrong with Robin, then it is our duty as friends to help. We cannot help if we do not know.”

Well, shoot. Wally felt more than a little bit cornered, and speedsters hated being cornered.

His hands were starting to twitch with the effort of staying silent.

“Please, Wally? We are concerned for him…”

Aw, dang it. Why did M’gann have to get involved? And why, oh why, was she giving him those puppy dog eyes. Wally could not say no to that.

_This was so unfair._

“RobinwassecretlyspyingonustheentiretimebecauseDeathstrokewasmanipulatinghimandhetriedtokillBatmanandfailedandthentriedtokillhimself.” It all came out in a rush, the words tumbling over themselves even as the team looked at him like he had just grown a second head.

Kaldur lifted one hand, eyebrow lifting. “Mind repeating that, but at a non-speedster pace?”

Wally groaned, shifting anxiously from one foot to the other. “Fine, fine… Robin tried to kill Batman, but that was only because he’d been manipulated by this really bad dude called Deathstroke who told him that Batman had killed his family. But Batman was able to fight him off and then Robin tried to kill himself.”

“Wait… _what_?”

“He actually managed to trick Batman?”

“So he’s a traitor?”  
  
“Of course he’s not a traitor. Did you not hear Wally? He’d been tricked.”

“That’s not very smart of him.”  
  
“He really tried to kill himself? Poor Robin…”

“Not poor Robin. He tried to kill Batman.”

“Yeah, but…”

They were all talking at once, chaos breaking out as different members latched onto different parts of the information and began to argue about it.

“Shut up! All of you, just… just shut up!” Wally snapped, eyes narrowing as he looked around at his friends. “You didn’t see him, okay? None of this was his fault. The guy who told him that Batman killed his parents… he’d been messing with his head since he was just a little kid. He lied to Rob about _everything_. It’s not Di-Robin… it’s not Robin’s fault. Did you not hear me when I said he tried to _kill_ himself? The guy had him so messed up that he actually thought death was better than failing to kill Batman. And he was _terrified_. He was just curled up in a corner of the room, waiting for an attack to come.”

That shut the team up, or at least, it did until M’gann started crying, turning and pressing her face into Connor’s chest, the clone holding her close. As for the others, Kaldur looked reasonably horrified and Artemis was mad.

Not just mad, she was practically fuming. She could understand what it was like to have a parental figure manipulate everything about her life. She could sympathize with Robin, but the thought that it had gotten so far… that Deathstroke had gotten so far into Robin’s head that he had thought death was a good alternative… well, that made Artemis furious.

For all that her friendship with Robin might have been based off a lie, she was not about to just stand still and let a poor innocent child get hurt. Because that was what was happening. Robin was young. Too young for this to be happening to him.

“So, what are we going to do about this?” She asked, turning to look at Wally, determination set in her eyes. “Batman probably isn’t going to let us help, but… but we’re Robin’s friends. It doesn’t matter if he lied to us at the start. We’re his friends, and we need to fight for him.”

Connor nodded, letting go of M’gann to step forward as well. “Artemis is right. I know what it’s like to be used as a weapon. I… I can’t say that I know exactly what he’s going through, but I do know that I wouldn’t be here if you guys did not fight for me. Whether he lied from the start or not, Robin is a part of this team, and we deserve to know what’s going on.”

“We can help him… maybe he’d feel safer if he was at the mountain.” M’gann added, joining their growing circle.

Slowly, Kaldur nodded, resting a hand on Wally’s shoulder in support. “Well, that settles it then. We will help Robin. But we do need to be able to find him first. You said you visited him, Wally?”

Batman was going to kill him, but… but Wally knew that Dick needed him, needed the team’s support.

“I know where they live.”

~•~

 _Everything hurt_.

Pain splintered through every single part of his body, stabbing into his consciousness like an ever-present blade, pressing deeper and deeper into his sanity.

Time was losing meaning, even though Dick knew that it could not possibly have been very long.

_It felt like an eternity._

Blood bubbled from his lips, dripping down his bare chest and joining the steadily growing puddle pooling on the floor beneath his suspended body.

He had long since lost feeling in his arms, or at least, any feeling aside from pain and yet even that was growing mundane as his senses were overwhelmed with agony.

Breathing was becoming more and more of a struggle, broken ribs and internal bleeding making each quest for air an ever-harder feat.

Still, Dick had yet to yield any useful information.

_He would not break._

_He could not break._

_He owed that much to Bruce after all he had done._

~•~

Bruce closed the door to Jason’s room, face set in a hard scowl. Jason had not yielded much useful information.

_This was not going to be easy._

Still, Bruce knew that he could not give up. He could not fail Dick again. The poor boy had suffered too much already for being so young.

It took hours of scanning through databases, hours of reconfiguring trackers and hacking into satellite data, hours of searching down seemingly useless rabbit holes, before Bruce finally had Dick’s location narrowed down to a hundred-mile radius.

Still, that was too big.

_He would never be able to find Dick in time._

The boy had probably already been subjugated to endless amounts of torture in the day that it took to get this information. He could only hope, only pray, that he would be able to find him before it reached a point that Dick could not recover from.

“Master Bruce?”

Bruce looked up, eyes bloodshot from staring at the screen. “What is it, Alfred?”

“You have visitors.” Alfred did not look pleased, and Bruce could not help but share that feeling as Wally and the rest of the Team stepped out from behind his butler.

“Kid Flash, what are you doing here? And why have you brought them?” He asked, almost too tired to add the necessary harshness to his voice. _Almost._

Wally flinched ever so slightly at the question, his expression shifting into a mixture of sheepishness and guilt. “Well… um… you see…”

“We know about Robin. We are here to help him.” Kaldur stepped forward, narrowing his eyes at Bruce. “Kid Flash told us what we needed to know to find him.”

Bruce could not help but loose a bitter laugh. “You’re too late. He’s not here anymore.”  
  
“I… what? What happened to him?”

“He decided to go after Deathstroke himself. Things did not go well.” Bruce did his best to keep his tone emotionless, did his best to seem like the cold hero that he portrayed. But some of the tiredness and desperation seeped into his voice, his shoulders slumping ever so fractionally.

Wally was the first to react to that news, as expected considering that he was the closest to Dick. “How did that even happen? You let him get taken? He was _terrified_ of Deathstroke. _Terrified_. I can’t believe you would… he’s… he’s going to hurt him.”

Bruce sighed, running a hand down his face. “He ran off on his own. I… I misjudged something. It doesn’t matter now anyway. I’ve narrowed down where he is and I’m going to get him back.”

“Narrowed down how much? Did you have a tracker on him?”

“Of course I had a tracker on him. I have a tracker on everyone. If you must know, he’s somewhere in this area.” He gestured toward the screen, sighing again as the young heroes crowded in around his desk.

“This is not a small area, Batman. Do you really plan on searching this all yourself?” Kaldur asked, tone incredibly skeptical.

Bruce scowled. He knew that tone, and he was not about to let this happen. “I am aware of that. And yes. I will be searching the area. It is unsafe to bring others in on this.”  
  
“But we can _help_. I can run faster than you can, Connor has super hearing and can see through walls, M’gann can sense emotions. Sure, Artemis and Kaldur can’t do anything particularly helpful in this situation, but they’re still two extra pairs of eyes.”

“No.”

The word was final; spoken so sternly that normally Wally would not hesitate in obeying, but this was not a normal situation. Dick was in danger, and every moment that they lost was a moment that he could be tortured or worse, _killed_. “He’s our teammate. _You_ put him on the team. It’s our duty as much as yours to protect him.”

“I said no.”

“Well, we don’t care what you said. He’s our friend, and we’re helping. We know where he is now. Either get on board or get out of the way.” Wally snapped, crossing his arms over his chest, refusing to back down even when faced with Batman’s heart stopping death glare.

And, wonder of wonders, the standoff actually ended in Wally’s favor as Bruce sighed and looked away, shoulders slumping more.

“Fine. The Team can help. But you will do everything that I tell you to do. _Everything._ ”

~•~

Someone was screaming, the sound raspy and desperate.

Oh.

That was him.

Dick felt like he was floating, watching his body from afar as Slade continued to beat him, continued to slice skin from his body, continued to pour boiling water over the wounds, continued to rip his fingernails off one by one.

Everything was hazy, clouded in pain. He knew nothing aside from pain at this point.

_It hurt._

_Everything hurt._

And now, when he thought that he knew every kind of pain already, a new variation hit him with nauseating clarity, cutting through the fog and making his screams all that much louder.

It felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his skull, as if someone was pressing into his brain with a burning hot blade.

_No._

“NO!”

Too late, Dick saw a second figure stepping out from the shadows, a sickly white man with an exposed brain, his eyes trained intently on Dick.

Too late, he tried to throw up his mental walls, tried to block out the harsh intrusion.

Too late, he realized that he was far too weak to keep him out.

The walls shattered, drawing another agonized scream from his lips as the man simply smirked.

Dick could not stop him.

_Dick was too weak._

~•~

M’gann screamed, body plummeting through the air, Connor barely managing to catch her before she hit the unforgiving cement of the rooftop.

“H-he’s… he’s in pain. So much… so much pain.” She gasped out, hands clutching at her head, body trembling as she struggled to cope with the waves of emotions overwhelming her.

Connor gritted his teeth, nodding. “Yeah, I hear him. Batman? You got that? I’m pretty sure he’s somewhere under this building.”

“Got it.” Batman gritted his teeth, turning and heading to the building in question. Finally, finally, they had found him. It had taken nearly a day of searching, but _finally_ , Bruce could act. He could save his son.

The Team gathered in front of the entrance, watching anxiously as Batman came to stand in front of them.

“Be ready for anything. Deathstroke is extremely dangerous. Kid Flash, Miss Martian, and Superboy, I want you three to head straight for him. If a fight breaks out, keep on going. We can handle the fighting. Once you’ve gotten to him and freed him from whatever imprisonment he is in, Kid Flash, I need you to take him and run. He’s not going to be in a good condition. You know where the nearest Zeta Tube is. Take him straight to the Watchtower. The rest of us will follow once Deathstroke has been taken out.” It was a solid plan, the best that Bruce had been able to come up with at such short notice. He looked around at the group of young heroes, waiting until he saw each one nod before nodding himself.

“Good. Let’s go.”

~•~

“Look at you, Richard. Pathetic.” Slade spat, nose crinkling in disgust as he eyed the broken body of his ex-apprentice. “Such a waste of potential. If only you had just done as told, but no. You wanted to play hero.”

Dick gritted his teeth when Slade gripped his chin, lifting his head up to meet his eyes. He was barely hanging onto consciousness, his vison distorted and swirling with pain. But he was aware enough to gather up a mixture of blood and saliva in his mouth, spitting it into Slade’s face.

It was not a particularly smart idea, something that he quickly realized as Slade delivered a harsh blow to Dick’s stomach, the air leaving his lungs as he coughed up more blood.

“Just remember this, little bird, whatever potential you did have is gone. You’re just a broken little boy. You have always been broken.”

Another punch was enough to send Dick into unconsciousness, Slade’s words echoing in his mind.

_Broken._

~•~

He did not know how long it had been since Slade had knocked him out, but what he did know was that things had gotten to a point where he was hallucinating.

That was the only possible explanation for what was happening.

It simply was not possible for Wally, Connor, and M’gann to be there.

Maybe it was just a dream.

_It was all just a dream._

But that did not make much sense either. He could hear the sounds of fighting, could feel the wetness of Wally’s tears against his skin as the redhead cradled him in his arms, could feel the heat of explosions.

Maybe it was just a really vivid dream.

“Robin? It’s going to be okay… you’re going to be alright.”

Dick smiled weakly. Dream Wally was nice… Wally was always so nice. 

His smile only seemed to make things worse, however, dream Wally crying harder.

Hazily, Dick saw a blur of black fighting with another orange and black blur. Something about that did not seem quite right, but again, he could not place what felt off.

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and when he opened them, he was suddenly outside the building, the rest of the Team standing protectively around him.

Wait.

The arms surrounding him were no longer dream Wally’s… Batman. Batman was holding him.   
  
That did not make much sense either though. Batman had been fighting the black and orange blur.

Slade.

Batman had been fighting Slade.

But if Batman was holding him, then where was Slade?

And what had happened to Wally?

The building in front of them was shaking, the heat of the fire making Dick feel cozy and warm.

Wait.

_Focus._

The building was going to collapse.

_Slade._

His half open eyes caught a glimpse of something orange and black moving toward the entrance.

No.

Not something.

Someone.

_Slade._

Dick began to struggle in Batman’s arms, reaching toward the building as it began to shake more.

“S-Slade…” He cried out, his breaths rattling in his chest as panic flooded every ounce of his being. Slade was going to die.

His _father_ was going to die.

Batman’s arms tightened around him, holding him close and refusing to let him go even as Dick screamed for the man who had raised him, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

With a crash, the building collapsed, the orange and black figure going down under the falling structure, and Dick’s screams grew more and more desperate.   
  
_Slade had died._

_His parents had died._

He could not breathe, could not think, the image of his parents’ deaths melding and clashing with the vision of Slade being crushed by the falling building, replaying over and over again.

Dick registered a faint prick in his neck before darkness once again closed in, his body going limp in Batman’s arms.


	25. Reconciliation

Everything felt hazy, as if his head was wrapped in layers of fluffy cotton, the sounds around him muffled and distorted, his body feeling oddly light and yet heavy at the same time.

Something was missing, and, after a moment of thought, Dick realized that it was pain. He should be in pain. In fact, that was the only thing that he was completely certain of. But the pain was not there.

Slowly, he blinked his eyes open, wincing as the bright light almost immediately made them water. He closed his eyes again. It was so bright.

Why was it so bright?

He could hear someone moving around and then the lights dimmed.

With a sigh of relief, Dick blinked his eyes open once more, reaching up to rub at them, only to note that his hand was bandaged, the material so vibrantly white that it took him aback for a moment. Something was not right about this situation.

It just… it just did not fit.

As his senses became more alert, Dick registered the fact that there was a man in the room, standing by the door and what he could only presume was a light switch.

He knew that man.

“B-Bruce?” His voice cracked, hacking coughs proceeding the question as pain flared in his throat. “Ow…”

_Water._

_He needed water._

Fortunately for Dick, Bruce seemed to know exactly what he needed, stepping to his bedside picking up a cup of water, sliding a hand under Dick’s head in support as he helped him drink. “Shh… just drink this. You’ve got some damage to your vocal cords… it’s probably going to be hard to talk for a while.”

Dick gulped the water down as quickly as Bruce would let him, ignoring the way that it made his stomach cramp uncomfortably. It felt so good, the cool liquid soothing the ache in his throat.

As Bruce pulled the cup back, Dick gave him a weary smile. “Thanks…”

Bruce returned the smile, running a gentle hand through Dick’s hair, the touch surprisingly comforting. “Of course."

Silence filled the room, but Dick found that it was not uncomfortable. No, if anything, the silence was _comforting_. He was still trying to piece together his memories, trying to make sense of the vague memories of _pain_ in conjunction with his obvious injuries and his presence in what was clearly some kind of hospital room.

The memories were filtering in slowly, from the fight with Slade to the hours of prolonged torture. Not that the torture was unexpected. He had known that the torture was incoming as soon as he believed Bruce was telling him the truth.

“Jason… is Jason okay?” He asked, remembering all too vividly how Slade’s blade had plunged into the other male’s chest; how he had lay bleeding out onto the floor.

“Jason is fine. I followed your destress signals and got there in time. He’s recovering at the manor.”

“Good… that’s… that’s good.” Dick let out a breath that he was not even aware of holding in, body relaxing back onto the bed. He would have hated for Jason to be seriously injured because of him.

_At least the distress signal had worked._

However, now the issue of Jason was out of the way, Dick’s mind went straight to the next most urgent thought. “Did… did I dream the building collapsing, or did… or did that really happen?”

Bruce frowned, looking away with a soft sigh. “I’m sorry, Dick… I sent Wally back in to try and get him out, but it was too late at that point. Slade is dead.”

Why did that statement hurt so much?

Dick knew that Slade had not been good, knew that the mercenary had manipulated and lied to him, had tortured and hurt him, and yet… and yet it still hurt. And Dick hated himself for feeling sad about it.   
  
“I-I… I shouldn’t be upset about it. I shouldn’t… he killed my family. He l-lied to me…” Dick whispered, more trying to convince himself than anything else.

Still, Bruce sat down on the edge of the bed, carefully lifting Dick up and into an embrace, holding him tenderly, as if he were a fragile piece of glass, mere moments from shattering. “It’s okay to be upset, Dick. Yes, he was a horrible person, but he still raised you. You are allowed to miss him. You are allowed to grieve for him. Being sad about his death does not mean that he won. If anything, it shows how strong you are; how capable of kindness. It’s okay.”

And so, face pressed into Bruce’s shoulder, Dick cried.

He cried for the man who had raised him.

He cried for the moments of kindness that he still cherished deeply.

He cried for the relationship that had been lost.

He cried for his life that had been a lie.

And, for the first time in years, he cried for his parents. Because, whether he still wished it or not, they had been avenged.

~•~

“Can I pick the movie tonight?”

“No. I wanna pick it.”  
  
“Oh, come on… you picked it last night.”

“Too bad. I’m the oldest. I get to pick the movie.”  
  
“That’s not even a rule.”

“Well, considering the fact that I’m the one able to move around, I think I get to make the rules.”

Dick stuck his tongue out childishly, only to get flipped off by Jason.

Bruce simply sighed. “Why don’t we just discuss something, and all decide together?”

“Because Dickie-bird doesn’t know any movies, your taste is fucking awful, and Alfred doesn’t watch movies. This leads to only one option. I get to pick.” Jason insisted, holding the remote away as Dick leaned over him in an attempt to swipe it.

Dick huffed, unbalancing and ending up sprawled out on the couch, the upper half of his body on top of Jason and his feet by Bruce. “This is still unfair.”

“Shhh. You’ll like it, trust me.” Jason reassured, ruffling Dick’s hair, helping him get comfortably situated, still stretched out along the couch. “Lord of the Rings is a classic.”

Bruce pulled a blanket off the back of the couch, spreading it over Dick and Jason before returning to his seat, a fond look in his eye and a faint smile on his lips. “My taste in movies is fine. But I do agree that Lord of the Rings is good… if you don’t like it, Dick, we can always switch it out for something else.”

“Fine, fine… but I’m choosing tomorrow.”

“Sure, kid. Sure.”

In the kitchen, Alfred simply watched and smiled. It had been a week since Dick had been rescued, and both his and Jason’s recoveries were going well. Jason was healed enough to leave, and yet, he remained at the manner, insistent on hanging out with his ‘baby bro’.

And, Alfred could tell that the boys were truly forming a bond. Even better than that, he could see how happy Bruce was to have both boys under the same roof and alive. It was practically a miracle.

Alfred pulled out a camera from one of the drawers, snapping a few quick photos of the sweet domestic scene. He knew that they all had a long way to go, but this was a start.

_Everything was going to be okay._

~•~

“Robin! I’m so glad that you’re okay!”

“Do you want us to call you Robin or Dick?”

“We helped Batman with finding you!"

“Do you need help with anything?”

“I made cookies!”

“Okay. Back the fuck off. All of you. Give the kid room to breathe.” Jason snapped, eyes narrowing behind his mask, one hand moving to rest protectively on Dick’s shoulder, moving ever so slightly in front of the younger male.

“Calm down. It’s fine. Really.” Dick laughed nervously, shaking his head and nudging Jason ever so slightly in the side. He appreciated the other’s concern, he really did, but it was not helping with his anxiety over this meeting. After all, he had not spoken to the team as a whole since before Bruce had found everything out.

_They were going to hate him._

“Um… hi guys…”

Quite unexpectedly, Connor was the first to step forward, offering Dick his hand with an equally anxious smile. “Hi, Robin… I’m Connor. Welcome to the team.”

Dick gasped, tears welling up unbidden to his eyes as he grasped Connor’s hand with his own. “I-I… thankyou.” He whispered, barely managing to keep himself from breaking down as Connor, _Superboy_ , pulled him into a cautious hug.

To him, it was all too clear what Connor was doing. The clone was giving him a full second chance. A clean slate. And Dick… well… Dick had not known how much he needed that.

One by one, the rest of the team followed suit, re-introducing themselves to Dick, each introduction sending him closer to tears until, finally, Wally stood before him, all freckles and grins.

“Hey, Robin. I’m Wally, and you’re part of this team. No matter what.”

And then, Dick really did cry, sinking to his knees on the floor, quickly joined by each member of the team until they were all just a big pile of tears and hugs.

“Well, this is probably the sappiest shit I’ll ever see. I hate it.” Jason deadpanned, looking down at them with one judgmental eyebrow raised.

Dick snorted, eyes widening for a brief moment as his shoulders began to shake, laughter bursting forth from his lips, a contagious kind of laughter that spread through the other teens until the pile of tears turned into one of unstoppable giggles with Jason continuing to stand judgmentally over them.

~•~

Dick screamed, body jolting out of bed and onto the floor with a loud thump. He shrunk back against the wall, sandwiching his body between the bed and bedside table, breaths coming in sharp gasps as his eyes roamed the room, wide with panic.

The door to his room flew open, and Bruce came rushing in, eyes focusing in on the boy’s trembling form. Cautiously, he approached, kneeling down next to Dick. 

“Hey… it’s okay, Dick. It’s okay. You’re at Wayne Manor, remember? You’re _safe_.” He murmured, voice soft and gentle, the tone a far cry from what he spoke like while acting as Batman. But in this moment, he was not Batman. He was Bruce Wayne, and his son was scared.

Dick shuddered, blue eyes glistening with unshed tears, his breathing calming ever so slightly as his brain registered Bruce’s words. “B-Bruce? It… it’s okay?”

The question was spoken with such timid fear, such clear _brokenness_ , that it made Bruce want to punch something. Or better yet, someone. Instead, he simply held out a hand to the frightened boy. “I promise. It’s okay.”

Dick took the offered hand, letting Bruce pull him out and onto his lap, finding comfort in the older male’s warm embrace, breathing settling down into a slow rhythm as Bruce whispered gentle reassurances over and over.

~•~

It felt oddly good to cry, Dick decided, letting the tears trickle down his cheeks as he gazed down at the graves in front of him, kneeling to carefully place a bunch of flowers on each cold stone surface.

“Hi Mami… hi Tati. I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you before… I… a lot of stuff has happened,” he murmured, dropping back to sit in front of the graves, sad blue eyes fixed on the stones before him, tears continuing to trace their paths down his cheeks. “I… I wasn’t okay for the longest time. But now… but now I really do think I am. I’ve found a f-family. I thought I had one before, but I didn’t… not really. But now… I think this one is real. I… I _know_ this one is real. And… and while they’ll never be as good as you, they’re better than nothing. They’re… they’re good to me. Too good. I… I miss you both so much. I love you. But it’s time to let go. I… I am here to say goodbye.”

After a few long moments of silence, Dick stood and turned away, feeling as if an invisible weight had lifted from his body. He felt lighter now; at peace. A faint smile spread across his lips as Dick walked down the hill to Bruce, letting the older male envelope him in a hug.   
  
“Are you okay?” Bruce asked, staring down worriedly at the boy, at his _son_.

Dick nodded, arms wrapping around Bruce’s waist, returning the hug. “I… not yet. But… but this is a start. It… it’s going to be okay.

Bruce tightened his arms around Dick, a true smile breaking out on his normally stoic features. “Good. That’s good.”   
  
And it really was.

Because even if Dick was not fully fine yet, Bruce would be there to make sure that he would be eventually.

Because finally, finally, Bruce knew how to help.

Because, at last, Dick was ready to open his heart up to another father, and Bruce would be damned if he let him down.


	26. Unbreakable

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Haly International Traveling Circus; where the world of the Century is your oyster. And these are our latest pearls, the Daring Dangers!”

The familiarity of it all was enough to make Dick feel ill, something not helped by the fact that he did in fact feel quite sick already. Not that he was going to complain. Bruce had barely let him go on this mission, considering the fact that Dick was still healing from being tortured, and Dick was not about to risk complaining and being sent home.

This was something that he needed to do.

Because if he did not find a way to solve whatever was going on with Haly’s Circus, then it would be shut down, and Dick… well… Dick could not handle another loss in his life at the moment. His parents had loved the circus, had died performing for it. Protecting it from going out of business was the least that Dick could do.

That being said, Dick was definitely out of practice and his sickness was not helping. His leap fell short, eyes widening in panic as he plummeted straight for the ground.

_Was this how it would end?_

_Like his parents._

If he was being honest, Dick was unsure if he felt relieved when Connor boosted him back into the air on a barrel and M’gann caught him. Falling to his death would have been poetic justice, after all.

_No._

He could not afford to think about that, not now at least. He needed to focus on things getting better. Because they would get better.

_Bruce said they would._

Except things were not getting better, at least for the mission.

They had failed to catch the thief, a building had exploded, M’gann had nearly died from the fire, and Dick was still feeling out of it. To make matters worse, while Wally had told the team his true identity in order to help rescue him, none of them seemed to understand his connection to the circus.

“Maybe Haly is the culprit.” Connor insisted, standing protectively over M’gann, eyes narrowed angrily.

Dick gritted his teeth, shaking his head. “Haly didn’t do it.”

“Come on, Robin… this is his circus. It would make sense.” Artemis placed a hand on Dick’s shoulder, frowning when he flinched away from the touch.   
  
“It’s not Haly. Keep an open mind about it.” He insisted, turning toward the door. He wished Wally was there. Or even Jason. But Wally was busy, and Jason had his own hero work to do, which meant that it was just Dick and the rest of the team, plus Red Arrow.

And Dick honestly did not know Red Arrow all that well. Apparently, he was friends with Jason which was why he had tagged along.

Speaking of Red Arrow…

“Robin, are you alright?” The archer asked, stepping up behind Dick and blocking him off from the rest of the team.

Dick let out a soft sigh, shoulders slumping as he managed a faint nod. “Yeah… I’m fine. I’m going to go for a walk.”

“Okay… if you’re not back in half an hour, I’ll come find you.”

“Thanks.” Dick mumbled, giving him a weak smile before stepping out of their train compartment, ignoring his teammates protests at his leaving. He really could not deal with them at the moment.

It was like they were babying him to the point where everything that he said was automatically ignored. Still, he could not blame them for it. This was his first mission back, after all, and, while he had spent time just hanging out with the team, it felt like they were walking on eggshells around him.

_It stung._

Tucking his hands into his jacket pockets, Dick took in a few deep breaths of the chilly air, closing his eyes and focusing on relaxing. Being back at the circus was harder than he thought it would be. Everything was harder than he thought it would be.

Maybe he should call Bruce… no. He did not want to bother him.

Dick sighed, shaking his head and continuing to walk until he ended up in front of a poster on one of the train carriages, lips twitching upwards as he read the words.

_The Flying Graysons._

At least somewhere, they were still remembered.

A ringing in his ear jolted Dick out of his memories, and he lifted his hand, tapping the communicator in his ear. “Hello?”

“Yo, kid. You doing okay? Roy said you were sick and the team were being assholes. Need me to come beat ‘em up?”

“Roy? Oh… right Red Arrow.” Dick laughed, shaking his head even though Jason could not see him. “Nah. It’s fine… Connor is just stressed because his girlfriend got hurt. I’m staying whelmed about it.”  
  
“Hmph. Well, as long as it’s not too bad. Oh. By the way. Bruce says to get home fast. Alfred has been making soup since I let slip that you were sick, and I think it’s driving the Bat insane. Seriously, even I’m about to drown in the amount of soup that the old guy is making.”

“You’re at the manor?”

“Had to stop by for a checkup.”

Dick could not stop the smile that spread across his lips. This was good. He was happy that Jason and Bruce were getting along well enough for Jason to feel comfortable stopping by the manor for help.

 _Like a real family._

“Will you be there when I get back?”

Jason snorted on the other end of the line. “That depends on when you get back, kid. I ain’t about to just sit and wait for you to get home. I’ve got shit to do.”

“Right… okay.” Dick stifled a laugh. He knew Jason well enough by now to know what that extra defensive tone meant.

_Jason would be there when he got back._

_His family would be there._

“Whatever, little bird. Imma hang up now. Alfred just took some bread out of the oven and it’s practically begging to be eaten.”

“Bye. Love you.”

The words slipped out before Dick could stop them, his eyes widening and a hand quickly moving to cover his mouth.

_Please let him have already hung up._

_Please._

But no, Dick could hear Jason on the other end of the line, the silence practically burning into him before Jason spoke again, voice unusually soft with emotion.

“Love you too, lil bro.”

The call cut off, but Dick did not mind it. There was a growing warmth in his chest, one which was rapidly spreading throughout his body.

Was this what happiness felt like?

_It was nice._

“Dick? You okay?”

Dick wiped a hand across his eyes to get rid of any extra moisture gathered there before turning to face his concerned teammates, a cheerful smile breaking across his face.   
  
“Yes. I’m okay. Let’s finish this.”

~•~

_“Well, Dick, I’ll miss you.”_

_“It’s Dan! Dan Danger.”_

_Haly simply smiled fondly, leaning closer and placing a hand on Dick’s shoulder._

_“Son, you’ve grown, but some things never change; like the sight of a Grayson on the trapeze. You can’t fake that. Can’t hide it. So, do an old ringmaster one last favor?”_

As he swung through the air like a bird in flight, Dick realized that he really, truly, would be okay.

Because he was and forever would be a Flying Grayson. He would always have that connection with his parents, and now, now he could reconcile his past with his future, could accept what had happened to him and could grow from it.

He was not just one or the other, not good or bad, not hated or loved, not failure or victor. He was all those things and yet so much more. No longer was he a lost and frightened child.

_No._

He was the last Flying Grayson.

He was Deathstroke’s apprentice.

He was a member of the Team.

He was friends with Wally and brothers with Jason.

He was Robin, partner to Batman.

He was Richard John Grayson Wayne, and despite all that he had gone through, he was _unbreakable_.


	27. Epilogue

“Was it a success?”

“Yes. Despite the boy’s betrayal, he did gather the information that we sought, and I was able to extract it before his rescue.”

“Good… good.”

“Is it time for phase two?”

“Yes. Phase two is now in action. You have the order of targets?”

“I do. The League won’t know what hit them.”

With a dark chuckle, Deathstroke leaned back in his chair, single eye focused in on the pages upon pages of recreated data from the Batcave. He had known that the boy’s photographic memory would come in handy at some point, but this was nearly too perfect.

The identity of every single hero and sidekick, their addresses, occupations, relationships.

_His plan had been perfect._

And, best of all, the boy had no idea that what was coming was because of him. No, Deathstroke had made sure that all memories of Psimon had been erased from his mind, filled instead with layers upon layers of torture that no psychic in their right mind would willingly search through to even spot the missing memories.

_It was perfect._

The Justice League would fall, all thanks to Richard Grayson.

~•~

“Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you!” The Team sung, their voices joined by various members of the Justice League along with Roy and Jason.

Dick flushed with embarrassment, ducking his head shyly, turning into Bruce’s chest ever so slightly in an attempt to hide. He was moved. Truly, he was, but… but this was a lot. Too much.

_He had never had a birthday party before._

“Hey, kiddo… you okay?” Bruce whispered to him, turning his body to block Dick from view, protectiveness rearing its head as he noted how bashful Dick had become. “If this is too much, I can tell them to leave.”

“No… no. This is nice. I… I’ve just… I-I’ve never had a birthday party before. I don’t… I don’t know what to do.” Dick whispered, teeth sinking down into his lower lip as he stared down at the floor, feeling just that much more embarrassed.

However, he really should not have worried, as Bruce simply hugged him. “That’s okay. Just try to relax, alright? These are your friends and family. You don’t have to put on any kind of act around them. Just have fun. Be a kid. Let loose. Do whatever _you_ want to do. Today is your day.”

Slowly, Dick nodded, looking up at Bruce with tear filled eyes. “Thankyou… dad… I… thankyou.”

“Of course.” Bruce murmured back, voice choked with emotion as he gave Dick one last quick squeeze before letting him go with a gentle shove, nodding toward Wally who was practically vibrating with excitement. “Go. Have fun.”

And have fun, Dick did.

Wally and Artemis taught him and the rest of the team how to play UNO and, once they had worn out that game, they played charades.

Sure, the game was not necessarily normal, as M’gann did not understand that shapeshifting was cheating, and Wally could not stay silent long enough to act anything out properly, but it was fun. Especially when Jason and Roy joined in, adding hilarious commentary and providing some killer impressions.

For the first time that he could remember, Dick really was having fun.

Because for the first time since his parents’ deaths, Dick was truly and genuinely happy.

Dick was home. 


End file.
